The Clever and Cunning Fox
by Baran3
Summary: Self-insertion. The God Paladine decided to use an Online Character Generator to bring another chosen in his fight against the Dark Queen. However, the new champion of good, while he would have accepted, was a designed volunteer. And also, the middle-age male found himself near Solace as a... Young female Kitsune... Needless to say, she isn't very happy...
1. Prologue 1

**The Clever and Cunning Fox**

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story.

Notes: This is a complete rewrite of one of my French-written stories. It's a self-insertion story in the world of Dragonlance. It is actually based on a real RPG campaign based on the AD&D Dragonlance series and mastered by my friend Silth. I, however used a pure human sorcerer in the original campaign.

CANTICLE OF THE DRAGON AND THE FOX

Hear the sage as his song descends like heaven's rain or tears,

and washes the years, the dust of the many stories

from the High Tale of the Dragonlance.

For in ages deep, past memory and word,

in the first blush of the world when the three moons rose from the lap of the forest,

dragons, terrible and great,

made war on this world of Krynn.

Yet out of the darkness of dragons,

out of our cries for light in the blank face of the black moon soaring,

a banked light flared in Solamnia,

a knight of truth and of power,

who called down the gods themselves and forged the mighty Dragonlance,

piercing the soul of dragon-kind,

driving the shade of their wings from the brightening shores of Krynn.

Thus Huma, Knight of Solamnia,

Light-bringer, First Lancer,

followed his light to the foot of the Khalkist Mountains,

to the stone feet of the gods,

to the crouched silence of their temple.

He called down the Lance-makers,

he took on their unspeakable power to crush the unspeakable evil,

to thrust the coiling darkness back down the tunnel of the dragon's throat.

Paladine, the Great God of Good, shone at the side of Huma,

strengthening the lance of his strong right arm,

and Huma, ablaze in a thousand moons, banished the Queen of Darkness,

banished the swarm of her shrieking hosts back to the senseless kingdom of death,

where their curses swooped upon nothing and nothing deep below the brightening land.

Thus ended in thunder the Age of Dreams and began the Age of Might,

When Istar, kingdom of light and truth, arose in the east,

where minarets of white and gold spired to the sun and to the sun's glory,

announcing the passing of evil,

and Istar, who mothered and cradled the long summers of good,

shone like a meteor in the white skies of the just.

Yet in the fullness of sunlight the King-priest of Istar saw shadows:

At night he saw the trees as things with daggers,

the streams blackened and thickened under the silent moon.

He searched books for the paths of Huma,

for scrolls, signs, and spells so that he, too, might summon the gods,

might find their aid in his holy aims,

might purge the world of sin.

A Clever Fox came, white as Ivory and Purity,

brought through the Dream from a far far away land and whispered Wisdom soothingly in his ears.

But he ignored her as only Huma could give him the answers he sought.

Then came the time of dark and death as the gods turned from the world.

A mountain of fire crashed like a comet through Istar,

the city split like a skull in the flames,

mountains burst from once-fertile valleys,

seas poured into the graves of mountains,

the deserts sighed on abandoned floors of the seas,

the highways of Krynn erupted and became the paths of the dead.

Thus began the Age of Despair.

The roads were tangled.

The winds and the sandstorms dwelt in the husks of cities,

The plains and mountains became our home.

As the old gods lost their power,

we called to the blank sky into the cold, dividing grey to the ears of new gods.

The sky is calm, silent, unmoving.

We have yet to hear their answer,

however the Wise Fox is still there in the Dream, waiting.

* * *

 **Character Creation.**

"Hum... First time I'm using one of those infernal contraptions... Let's see... It seems rather simple..."

 **New Character?**

"Why, yes, of course..!"

 _The man blinked as he was suddenly plunged into Darkness. He had been reading his posts on his computer while drinking tea and then without any warning... He tried looking around. He could feel a flat ground under his feet, but nothing else. Even the rapid beating of his heart seemed muffled. "Hu..? What's going on..?"_

 **Male or Female?**

"Hum... Oh, let's say female. After all, there is not many girls in my future party."

 _The man tried to remember anything that could explain what was happening to him, but nothing emerged. He was on vacation from his paramedical work and he was indulging in his hobby about Role-playing Games before logging on his D &D Online account, then..._

 _The sudden and intense pain erupting from deep within him left him on the pseudo-ground gasping from pain. "Glurgh... ...what... What..? WHAT!?" It had been as if someone had taken a scalpel to his most intimate parts and started cutting without a please thank you._

 **Choose a Race.**

"Hum... Another Dwarf, perhaps..? Nope... An Elf..? Hu... Too much ego. A human..? Too simple. Let's scroll down a little... Oh oh! An Hengeyokai... Could be fun... Damn, specific to Oriental Adventures. Hrm... A Saiyajin..? Too powerful. What's that..? A Kitsune..? Blablablah... Ho HO... Nice... Oops, only for Pathfinder... Grr... Although... What's this..? Home-brew..? Hrm... uh uh... Hum... Yeah... let's go with a Home-brew Zenko Kitsune."

 _The pain impossibly began anew and higher. The man wasn't a violent person. An interesting paradox for one who practised Martial Arts and did two years as an officer in the Military. And yet, the healer he was would have gladly find the one responsible for that pain and have "a little discussion with him", preferably with a bazooka. It was as if his bones were broken and then remoulded into... something else._

" _Oh my God..! What's happening to me NOW!?" He stopped and put a hand at his throat. "My voice..?" Why was his voice so high in pitch? It was like the voice of a... His eyes widened as he remarked that his hand was now slender and... He looked down. "My body..?" He... No, SHE was swimming in her clothes. His fat replaced by a trim body with a very feminine breast, a pair of fox ears moved on his head and a fluffy tail emerged from his trousers. "I... I'm... I'm a female Kitsune..?!"_

 **Roll or Choose Abilities.**

"Roll or choose? I supposed that some prefer to have... What was it called? An Over-Powered Character..? Let's see... I suppose I could use some of the original abilities and then adjust a few so to have a playable character... Hum... Let's say 13 for Strength, 16 for Dexterity, 13 for Constitution, 15 for Intelligence, 16 for Wisdom and 18 for Charisma... After the Racial Adjustments of course."

 _Her/His body seemed to ripple as biological changes happened violently, giving her/his new physical and mental attributes. "Hurgh... Oh god... Oh GOD!" This wasn't violence, this was... a VIOLATION of his/her most precious inner individuality. She/He felt like a toy in the hand of a small child._

 **Choose a Template.**

"Hum... Nope. All are either too powerful or inappropriate... Although I'm taking some notes about the Fey-related templates."

 _Everything stopped as abruptly as it began. She/He was kneeling and breathing hard. She/He had always confidence in her/his instincts, gifted through her/his mother and refined through the Iron Will of her/his father and curiously, she/he wasn't sensing any malice behind what happened. "Is it finished..?" She/he cautiously stood up. "Where I am..?" She/He blinked as she/he looked at herself/himself. Despite the complete darkness... "I can't see anything but myself..."_

 **Choose an Alignment.**

"Easy, since I already know what he... SHE will be. There, Chaotic Good."

 _She/He managed to regain her/his breathing and cautiously tried to feel something from her/his environment. Nothing... There was nothing, either hostile or not, a complete void and yet... "...that... That was strange..." The only impression she/he felt was that of a... An automated system..?_

 **Choose Total Levels.**

"The same as the rest. Level 5. Oh nice, I almost forgot about the Ability increase at Level 4. Let's say... Charisma 19."

 _Her/his eyes widened as her/his flesh rippled again. "Oh no..! It's beginning again..." Whatever the function of the mechanism, it wasn't finished with her/him._

 **Choose a Class.**

"Ah, the main thing... Too bad I can't choose a sorcerer, but I decided on a Ranged-type Warlock and one Fey-oriented will be perfect and funny. Hum... Eldritch Spear, Entropic Warding and Baleful Utterance for Invocations. And of course, a cool 3d6 Eldritch Blast, Detect Magic at will and Damage Reduction 1/cold iron."

 _Something ignited deep within her/his soul. It was like a cold fusion reactor being sparked and mounting in regime. "What was that..? That strange feeling deep inside me... It's like a chilling bonfire..." She could feel a tingling from her hands... HER hands..!? Since when did she... SHE..!?_

 **Choose a Prestige Class.**

"Hrm... No, not yet... Although... I could... Yes, I can give her a "Legacy Weapon". Hum... Let's mix those two weapons in one... Yeah, and tweak it a little like... this... There! A +1 Throwing Chinese Wind and Fire Wheel (1d4 damage, X2 critical, range 10 feet) without the protruding blades but still edged with a guard on one section. A hand-held Chakram visually. Able to be used in melee range and thrown. Going to abuse a little a certain Prestige Class later..."

 _Her right hand reflexively closed on the weapon as it appeared in it. She goggled at the iconic weapon, shinning in her hand. "What's that? Why am I holding Xena's Chakram?!"_

 **Allocate Skill Points.**

"Hum... Need to be creative here... I'm going to transform his... her modern skills into equivalents for the setting and also give her the standard Warlock skills at her current level... So, that's Appraise 1, Auto-Hypnosis 6, Balance 6, Bluff 8, Climb 5, Concentration 8, Craft (Alchemy) 8, Decipher Script 5, Diplomacy 6, Disable Device 1, Disguise 5, Heal 6, Hide 5, Intimidate 8, jump 5, knowledge (Arcana) 8, Knowledge (The Planes) 8, Knowledge (Religion) 8, Listen 6, Move silently 5, Open locks 1, Perform (Singing) 5, Profession (Healer) 8, Ride 1, Search 5, Sense Motive 8, Sleight of Hand 1, Speak Language (Common, Sylvan, Draconic, Elven & Dwarven), Spellcraft 8, Survival 5, Swim 6, Tumble 6, Use Magic Device 8... Hum... Yes, a little heavy but good. And I'll use the optional note-box to put all the required knowledge for her about the setting... Hey! It's like the Grail-imbued knowledge of a Nasurverse Servant!"

 _Her mind exploded and expanded. In a flash, all the skills she learned as a He on Earth were filed, analysed and then copied into another format. Her medical knowledge adapted to a more medieval setting. In fact all her skills were being duplicated and changed to be of use in a High-Fantasy setting. New skills appeared and were shoved without consideration in her head. "AARRGGHH..! My head! My mind..!? What..?! Where..!? WHO..!?" Helping... Someone was helping her to... what?_

 **Choose your Feats.**

"Ouch... Here, it's going to be hard... I need her to be able to survive and be efficient... Hum... Let's go with those three... Point Blank Shot, Wild Talent and Psionic Shot. Hu..? I can use that to put..? Oh oh! And since she's a former human from planet Earth, I can also do this and this..! Of course, it's cheating, but the Dark Queen did also cheat."

 _Her mind was straightened and strengthened as a clarity she'd never known before revealed... Things, many and many things... Most notable was that it all concern one very particular planet. "Krynn..? The DRAGONLANCE series..!?"_

 **Choose your Traits.**

"Hu..? I can have those..? All right... Going with her personality... Let's say Plucky (+1 Will saves, -1 Fortitude saves), Polite (+1 Diplomacy, -2 Intimidate) and Quick (+10 feet Movement, -1 Hit Points/level).

 _Krynn, a RPG setting, first written as a novel... And the time-line pointed to the beginning of the War of the Lance... She... An Extra-dimensional Exile..? SHE WAS AN EXTRA-DIMENSIONAL EXILE! "No... Nonononononono... It can't be... THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE..!"_

 **Selection your Skill Tricks.**

"A bonus..? Cool... Let's see, Two from sixteen available with her current skills... Hrm... I say... Healing Hands (heals 1d6 HP to a stabilized dying character) and Never Outnumbered (can Intimidate all enemies within 10 feet)... Yeah, that's the trick... pun-intended."

" _Stay calm..! I MUST STAY CALM!" But how can anyone stay calm faced with an impossibility that happened only on the Internet with too numerous so-called Self-Insertion stories..? Was she the victim of the infamous R.O.B..?_

 **Selection your Gear.**

"Ho ho ho... I'm going to abuse it a lot... Hurrah for Hammer-space... Damn, there is a limit on the number of Magical Items and their price... Okay... For Armour? A Mithral Chain Shirt. Can't take any shield, but if I redesigned a Mithral Buckler as a Shoulder Pad..? Yeah, that works. Now, for weapons... Only Simple Weapons? Hum... Got to be sneaky here... One..? No, two Daggers, one Masterwork on the belt and one Adamantine in a Wrist-sheath. And for ranged attacks..? Hey, let's give her a Darkwood Heavy Crossbow with a Gnomish Crossbow Sight to make her a sniper. All the equipment possible for an adventurer, thank you very much. And... ho ho... Absolutely ALL the Alchemist-based items available... A little tweak with the various existing bolts for crossbows and she'll have a Green Arrow arsenal... Now for her Magical Items... A Chasuble of Fell Power (+ 1d6 to Eldritch Blast) redesigned as a silk scarf... A Cloak of Charisma +2 (Charisma 21) redesigned as a Headband... A pair of Gloves of Dexterity +2 (Dexterity 18) redesigned as bracelets... A relooked Warlock Sceptre with a dragon-head instead of a demon (+1 Light Mace, +1 ranged touch attack, 5 charges a day for boosting Eldritch Blast) for the main punch... And finally, a Kitsune half-mask which works like a pair of Horizon Goggles (+50% range for projectiles and ranged magic, +100% range for thrown weapons)."

 _The chakram disappeared from her hand. She blinked as something tingled within her mind. "Hu..?" She reached instinctively for it and was flabbergasted as she accessed a... Hammer-space..? And organized like... "An... Inventory..?" She rifled through an easy and intuitive interface that organized the sub-space alphabetically and by general categories. "Weapons... Armours... Magical Items..!?"_

 **Select an Appearance.**

"Ha... The best part of this contraption... Let's see... Skin... A light Caucasian... Eyes..? Emerald green, of course. Hair will be a nice honey brown. Type..? I would love to see her with a neck-length haircut... Yeah, like that. The visage will be like that to go with her high Charisma... Let's give her a cute and non-threatening aspect... 5 feet tall for a skinny 100 pounds weight... Yeah and her appearing age should be... Let's go with a nice 15 years plus 1 year per level... A standard Miko outfit for the default appearance... Good... And "voilà"."

 _She suddenly found herself clad into the traditional red and white outfit of a Japanese Miko. Her armour and shoulder pad followed. Her weapons organized themselves on her for easy access. Her magical items fell in place to grant her their powers. She had the impression of a finalization._

" _HOOOOEEEE!?" She stopped and gripped her throat. For one moment she sounded like... "What..! What..!? My body..! My clothes..! A mirror! I need a mirror!" She retrieved it easily from her hammer-space and looked, bewildered, at her young face with her emerald eyes and honey brown short hair. She really looked like..._

 **Name your Character.**

"Well, she can't use her old name now. Hum... I could go with her resemblance to Sakura Kinomoto, or more exactly Princess Sakura but... Well let's go with Fox... Yeah, Kitsune of Whitestone... Ho ho, nice pun. Let's use the note-box to give her a proper background so that Gilean don't lecture me to death about proper anchoring, twisting the threads of Fate and Destiny and whatnot."

 _She knew who she was. She was Kitsune of Whitestone because she was born near the sacred glade. She knew why she was a Warlock with a fey-aspect in an era where only the Arcane magic of Wizards existed. She knew why she was a Fox-spirit... "Kitsune..? Who..? ME!?" Her true memories of her male self collided an instant with her memories of her female fox self before re-shelving themselves neatly._

 **Finished yes/no.**

"Checking... Hum... Hrm... All right, let's hit her. We'll meet soon, my dear."

 _Solace... She was about to appear near Solace. Her eyes widened. A self-insert from the modern world..? A chosen one at the beginning of the Dragonlance Chronicles and more precisely at the beginning of "Dragons of Autumn"..? There was only one entity in all Krynn who could pull a fourth wall breaking and made her a future Companion of the Lance... Paladine, the supreme god of good... But... it made no sense... Paladine wouldn't have submitted her to this... metaphysical rape... Unless... He didn't truly know what he did..! Before, she could even think of a reaction, the darkness around her became a void and she fell... "NOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo..!"_

* * *

Notes: Much better than the original prologue which was a retelling of the first chapter of the book with just a few phrases changed.

The Homebrew Kitsune race is made of FIVE separate creations. I just use it as a guideline. Sakura will have typical Kitsune powers (shape-shifting and fox-fire) and the ability to gain Tails and Powers from experience. There is also a deep influence from Fey creatures (enchantment, mischief and illusions).

Edited after some commentaries.


	2. Prologue 2

**The Clever and Cunning Fox**

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story.

Notes: Sorry about that chapter. It wasn't easy to simply, well not plagiarize the original text.

On a personal note, the French translation of the text is, put simply, horrible. Many things, important ones, are simply erased or changed.

 **The Old M** **eddling Man**

Tika Waylan straightened her back with a sigh, flexing her shoulders to ease her cramped muscles. She tossed the soapy bar rag into the water pail and glanced around the empty room.

It was getting harder to keep up the old inn. There was a lot of love rubbed into the warm finish of the wood, but even love and tallow couldn't hide the cracks and splits in the well-used tables or prevent a customer from sitting on an occasional splinter.

The Inn of the Last Home was not fancy, not like some she'd heard about in Haven. It was comfortable. The living tree in which it was built wrapped its ancient arms around it lovingly, while the walls and fixtures were crafted around the boughs of the tree with such care as to make it impossible to tell where nature's work left off and man's began. The bar seemed to ebb and flow like a polished wave around the living wood that supported it. The stained glass in the window panes cast welcoming flashes of vibrant color across the room.

Shadows were dwindling as noon approached. The Inn of the Last Home would soon be open for business. Tika looked around and smiled in satisfaction. The tables were clean and polished. All she had left to do was sweep the floor. She began to shove aside the heavy wooden benches, as Otik emerged from the kitchen, enveloped in fragrant steam.

"Should be another brisk day, for both the weather and business." The innkeeper squeezed his stout body behind the bar and began to set out mugs, whistling cheerfully.

Tika frowned as she tugged at a bench. "I'd like the business cooler and the weather warmer. I walked my feet off yesterday and got little thanks and less tips!" She shook her head. "Such a gloomy crowd! Everybody nervous, jumping at every sound. I dropped a mug last night and... I swear Retark drew his sword!"

Otik snorted. "Pah! Retark's a Solace Seeker Guard. They're always nervous. You would be too if you had to work for Hederick, that fanat..."

Alarmed, Tika turned abruptly to Otik. "Watch it."

Otik shrugged. "Unless the High Theocrat can fly now, he won't be listening to us. I'd hear his boots on the stairs before he could hear me." Still Tika noticed he lowered his voice as he continued. "The residents of Solace won't put up with much more, mark my words. People disappearing, being dragged off to who knows where. It's a sad time." He sighed and shook his head. Then he brightened. "But it's good for business."

Tika stayed nervous and anxious. "Until he closes us down." She grabbed the broom and began sweeping briskly.

Otik chuckled, trying to raise the spirits of the young girl."Even theocrats need to fill their bellies and wash the fire and brimstone from their throats. It must be thirsty work, haranguing people about the New Gods day in and day out. He's in here every night."

Tika stopped her sweeping and leaned against the bar, looking seriously at the innkeeper. "Otik..." Her voice sounded subdued. "There's other talk, too... Talk of war. Armies massing in the north. And there are these strange, hooded men in town, hanging around with the High Theocrat, asking questions."

Otik looked at the nineteen-year-old girl fondly, reached out, and patted her cheek. He'd been father to her, ever since her own had vanished so mysteriously. He tweaked her red curls and sniffed. "War. Pooh. There's been talk of war ever since the Cataclysm. It's just talk, girl. Maybe the Theocrat makes it up just to keep people in line."

"I don't know." Tika frowned. Since a few days now, her dreams had been plagued by strange omens. A white fox with multiple tails, an immense shadow with bat-wings, the scream of denial from a young woman... "I..."

The door opened.

Both Tika and Otik started in alarm and turned to the door. They had not heard footsteps on the stairs, and that was uncanny!

The Inn of the Last Home was built high in the branches of a mighty vallenwood tree, as was every other building in Solace, with the exception of the blacksmith shop. The townspeople had decided to take to the trees during the terror and chaos following the Cataclysm.

And thus Solace became a tree town, one of the few truly beautiful wonders left on Krynn. Sturdy wooden bridge-walks connected the houses and businesses perched high above the ground where five hundred people went about their daily lives.

The Inn of the Last Home was the largest building in Solace and stood forty feet off the ground. Stairs ran around the ancient vallenwood's gnarled trunk. As Otik had said, any visitor to the Inn would be heard approaching long before he was seen.

But neither Tika nor Otik had heard the old man.

He stood in the doorway, leaning on a worn oak staff, and peered around the Inn. The tattered hood of his plain, gray robe was drawn over his head, its shadow obscuring the features of his face except for his hawkish, shining eyes.

Tika exchanged worried glances with Otik and turned to the stranger. "Can I help you. Old One?" Was this old man a Seeker spy?

"Eh?" The old man blinked. "You open?"

"Well..." Tika hesitated.

"Certainly," Otik said, smiling broadly. "Come in. Gray-beard. Tika, find our guest a chair. He must be tired after that long climb."

"Climb?" Scratching his head, the old man glanced around the porch, then looked down to the ground below. "Oh, yes. Climb. The stair. A great many stairs, of course..." He hobbled inside, then made a playful swipe at Tika with his staff. "Get along with your work, girl. I'm capable of finding my own chair."

Tika shrugged, reached for her broom, and began sweeping, keeping her eyes on the old man which was acting... weirdly...

He retrieved a very white parchment from his robes and stood in the center of the Inn, peering at the held page and around as though comparing and confirming the location and position of each table and chair in the room.

The common room was large and bean-shaped, wrapping around the trunk of the vallenwood. The trees smaller limbs supported the floor and ceiling. He looked with particular interest at the fireplace, which stood about three-quarters of the way back into the room.

The only stonework in the Inn, it was obviously crafted by dwarven hands to appear to be part of the tree, winding naturally through the branches above. A bin next to the side of the fire-pit was stacked high with cord-wood and pine logs brought down from the high mountains. No resident of Solace would consider burning the wood of their own great trees.

There was a back route out the kitchen. It was a forty feet drop, but a few of Otik's customers found this setup very convenient. So did the old man.

He muttered satisfied comments to himself as his eyes went from one area to another and seemed to tick off items from a written list.

Then, to Tika's astonishment, he suddenly dropped his staff, hitched up the sleeves of his robes, and began rearranging the furniture!

Tika stopped sweeping and leaned on her broom. "What are you doing? That table's always been there!"

A long, narrow table stood in the center of the common room. The old man dragged it across the floor and shoved it up against the trunk of the huge vallenwood, right across from the fire-pit, then stepped back to admire his work.

"There." he grunted. "S'posed to be closer to the fire-pit. Now bring over two more chairs. Need six..." He stopped himself and looked more closely at his list. "Nope... I almost forgot... Seven, I need seven chairs now."

Tika turned to Otik. He seemed about to protest, but, at that moment, there was a flaring light from the kitchen. A scream from the cook indicated that the grease had caught fire again.

Otik hurried toward the swinging kitchen doors. "He's harmless." He puffed as he passed Tika. "Let him do what he wants... Within reason. Maybe he's throwing a party."

Tika sighed and took three chairs over to the old man as requested. She set them where he indicated.

"Now." The old man glanced around sharply, his parchment still held firmly in hand. "Bring two more chairs, comfortable ones, mind you... Over here. Put them next to the fire-pit, in this shadowy corner."

Tika blinked and protested. "'Tisn't shadowy. It's sitting in full sunlight!"

"Ah." The old man's eyes narrowed and he looked at his empty left wrist in a curious gesture. "But it will be shadowy tonight, won't it? When the fire's lit..."

"I... I suppose so..." Tika faltered and asked herself how could the old man knew that fact.

"Bring the chairs. That's a good girl. And I want one, right here." The old man gestured at a spot in front of the fire-pit. "For me."

"Are you giving a party. Old One?" Tika asked as she carried over the most comfortable, well-worn chair in the Inn.

"A party?" The thought seemed to strike the old man as funny. He chuckled. "Yes, girl. It will be a party such as the world of Krynn has not seen since before the Cataclysm! We will also have a surprise guest from a far, far away land... Although she may be a little grumpy because of the distance... Be ready, Tika Waylan. Be ready!"

He patted her shoulder, tousled her hair, then turned and lowered himself, bones creaking, into the chair. "A mug of ale, please."

Tika went to pour the ale. It wasn't until she had brought the old man his drink and gone back to her sweeping that she stopped, wondering how he knew her name.

* * *

Notes: Yeah, I know. Horrible, right?

I did try to write another scene, but Fizban introduction in the inn of the Last Home seems to be impossible to avoid.


	3. Chapter 1

**The Clever and Cunning Fox**

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story.

Notes: And here we go. I'm trying to not merely copy/paste the original text. Also note that I am using not only the novels, but also the classic RPG modules by TSR.

 **First Random Encounter**

The walking young girl was metaphorically fuming, ignoring the pleasant weather of a sunny autumnal morning. If her power could have been connected to her emotions, she would have burned to ashes the entire region.

She was a short young Caucasian just outside the cusp of adulthood with big and soulful emerald eyes and short honey brown hair. Clad as a Japanese Miko with a chain shirt under her white vest and a reinforced shoulder pad on the left, she was equipped with a dragon-headed mace in a looped sheath on the left of her red skirt, a dagger at her belt and a crossbow made of darkened polished wood slung behind her back. Her whole appearance was, however, a lie.

She was... No, she HAD been a modern middle-aged male from planet Earth... Until Draco Paladine, the supreme god of good from Krynn decided that she was perfect for his plans against the Dark Queen, Takhisis aka the five-headed dragon better known as Tiamat in her original world... Just like Paladine was better known as Bahamut...

Kitsune of Whitestone, her new name, spat a curse to the heavens, envisioning what she was about to do to a certain old man, avatar of a certain god. The images were all very painful and humiliating and most were physically impossible.

Kitsune sighed again. Oh sure, if she had a warning before being "spellnapped" by the god, she would have certainly agreed to help. Being a healer was a vocation. The pleas of Krynn when she read the novels would have found her answering without too much hesitation. And, by the gods, she was in another world! How cool was that!

Still being conscripted and changed against her will was a big black mark in her books. It was a cliche to have the main protagonist changed by the new world, but come on! It was only funny when it happened to others...

She was so obsessed by her plight, that she really didn't look around at the moderately dense wood with many under-bushes. Oh sure, the fertile valley in the heart of the region of Abanasinia on the continent of Ansalon was very beautiful, but that was it. The modern girl simply forgot that she wasn't near what she called civilization despite the town of Solace nearby.

Still a few miles from Solace, the bushes rustled alongside the dirt road she was traveling. With little warning, eight filthy, shabbily-clad but heavily armed wretches scrambled out of the underbrush and rushed at her, screaming desperate war cries.

The surprise was total and Kitsune's eyes widened as she saw the eight goblins with orangish skin charging at her with hunger shinning in their dull and glazed yellow eyes. She jumped back, narrowly dodging the head of a javelin to her throat and swore as the goblins began to flank her.

Not many choices here, she put her back to a thick tree, preventing them to surround her, but also blocking any avenues of escape. With no time to draw a weapon, Kitsune fall back to her Martial Arts training while the power bumbling inside her soul was primed. She ranted at herself for being so oblivious to where she was and that she didn't even scent the stinking goblins with her fox-spirit's keen nose.

The goblins achieved to encircle their prey and launched their attacks. Kitsune stayed on the defensive, fencing the clumsy blows and letting her armor tanked the very few hits. Those goblins weren't very good with their crude weapons of black iron.

A discharge of pure, raw actinic violet energy and one goblins was reduced to cinders. Kitsune sneered at the shocked creatures. "You didn't think it would be so easy, right!" They hesitated long enough for her to unleash another of her deadly Eldritch Blast and atomized another target. It was fortunate that her Warlock powers came with an instinctive knowledge on how to properly use them.

A javelin flew to her and was deflected by some sort of haze around her. Kitsune smiled as she let the chaotic energies swirling around her intercepted the projectiles launched by the goblins. The rest charged again, but she managed to pulverize one before the melee.

The young girl kept her calm and methodically blocked the thrusts and swings of her five attackers. She let them run out of breath and viciously counter-attacked with a kick, managing to crush the windpipe of another. The four remaining exchanged worried glances before they found themselves with only three members. Being distracted against a magic-user was a big no-no.

It was too much: They turned back and ran away. Coldly, Kitsune aimed at the retreating creatures. Goblins were vicious monsters and she didn't want to have an innocent blood on her hands, just because she exercised misplaced pity. Her Eldritch Spear could reach 250 feet without using her Magical Mask, they didn't have a prayer.

As the last goblin was pierced through by her energy bolt, Kitsune thought it was strange she wasn't that much affected by what was essentially murder for a modern person. Of course, she knew about military history, and she knew that it was always easier to kill another if you considered him a monster. The goblins were definitively monsters first and people a very distant second for her. It would have been different if they were goblins from Azeroth, but that was all. Still, she hoped she wouldn't feel that coldness for others. At least, her anger had been consumed by the battle. She blew at her smoking hand, like a cowboy blew the smoke out of his gun-barrel and blinked as she heard someone clapping to her.

 **The Twins**

The man clapping was a tall 6 feet and powerfully built human warrior with brown hair and eyes and a ready smile. He was clad in chain-mail with a steel shield on his back and a longsword at his belt. However, it was the brightly polished, winged dragon helm that helped her to identify him.

Caramon Majere. The twin of Raistlin Majere and one of the future heroes of the War of the Lance.

Speaking of the twin, she now could spot the sickly looking and smaller wizard. Clad in the red robes announcing his neutrality in magic, the mage was leaning on a plain wooden staff holding at the top a ball of bright crystal clutched in a disembodied golden claw carved to resemble the talon of a dragon. It was the famous Staff of Magius, a powerful artifact from before the Cataclysm, when the gods of Krynn struck at mortal hubris, destroyed Istar and its corruption and changed the face of Krynn forever.

Kitsune noted that Raistlin Majere was in perfect position to strike at her with magic if she revealed herself to be hostile. Well, she had thought about what to do if... WHEN she met the main protagonists of the Dragonlance. Time to put herself to the test.

Kitsune bowed slightly while maintaining eye contact. "Greetings warrior, mage. I am Kitsune of Whitestone. Would you be kind and confirm I'm not very far from Solace?"

The warrior laughed. "Greetings young girl. I am Caramon Majere of Solace and you're only one hour away from our town."

The wheezing and soft voice raising from the depth of the red hood seemed to brought an icy blast of air around. "Are you a magic-user?"

Caramon frowned. Once again, the curiosity of his brother was taking the lead over politeness. "Raist..."

Kitsune smiled. She had no problems with the thirst of knowledge of the red wizard. "Yes. But I'm a rank amateur, a dabbler really compared to any High-Sorcery Wizard."

Raistlin deliberately revealed his face to the young woman, trying to provoke a reaction and learned more about this enigma. "I didn't recognize the spell you used multiple times against those goblins."

Kitsune did react, but it was muted and reduced to a widening of her eyes. She already knew about the strange aspect of the young wizard: The mage's skin was a golden color and contrasted deeply with his white hair. The skin glistened under the sunlight with a faintly metallic quality, looking like a gruesome mask. The flesh had melted from the face, leaving the cheekbones outlined in dreadful shadows. The lips were pulled tight in a dark straight line. But it was the man's eyes that top all of that. For the eyes were no longer the eyes of any living human. The black pupils were in the shape of hourglasses and Kitsune knew that the now golden irises were blue originally.

Raistlin also hid his surprise about the feeble reaction of the young girl. His senses had tingled when she unleashed those magical projectiles and it wasn't certainly any of the spells he knew or even those he saw or heard about. Her appearance was young, but her emerald eyes betrayed a much longer experience at life. And she walked like a seasoned warrior.

More puzzling was how she appeared to his cursed eyes. Although damned to see all living things dying slowly under the entropy of time, Kitsune was shinning with youth, unchanged under his gaze.

"You couldn't have. I am somewhat of a curiosity to mages. My power does not come from knowledge, it is an innate power." Thanks Paladine that she had a proper background. While Raistlin was intelligent, she didn't want to draw too much attention to her unconventional power.

Deliberately using her charm, Kitsune walked to the red wizard and coerced him to continue along the road as she began her tale.

Caramon was flabbergasted. Raistlin was very mindful of his personal space, more now after the dreaded Test at the High Tower of Sorcery where he gained the Staff of Magius and was cursed with his current appearance. And yet, he was now walking alongside a young girl. True they were discussing magic, but nevertheless... He shook his head. He didn't understand, but once again he was letting all the thinking to his brother.

"My story began near the Whitestone Glade. My family were merchants and since I was showing early an interest in books and the arts of the mind, they decided to find me a tutor in magic, hoping that I would boost their affairs when I'll be of age. My teacher was an old and grumpy white robe wizard who was beginning to enter senility." She shook her head. "I learned early that I wasn't cut for magic. I could easily read and learned many things, but I didn't have "the gift" for magic. So I used the opportunity to learn about Alchemy and Healing and reached a fair amount of proficiency." Kitsune stopped and thought about her created background. "There are faeries living near the Kaganesti lands. I ran into them during a caravan travel with my parents... They needed the help of a human healer as one of them had been wounded and they couldn't do a thing. I accepted and was promised safe passage and returning to my family in a few days... A few days..." Kitsune bit her lips. "They forced me to drink a potion that enabled me to enter their realm. I healed the wounded Fey... The most beautiful woman I ever saw... She... kissed me as a reward..." Kitsune shoot a pebble on the road. "I can't remember what happened after that... When I regained my senses, I was guided out of their realm and told to enjoy my gift as a thank you." Kitsune's mind gazed at the implanted memories. "I rapidly found that instead of a few days... years have passed... My family had moved on to the North... And my teacher was dead of old age." She passed a hand in her honey brown hair. "Worse, I was changed... My original hair was black and my eyes brown." She turned to Raistlin. "I don't know how, but somehow the faeries gifted me with the same inner connection they have to the ambient primordial magical field. Thus I gained the innate power of a Fey." She snorted. "Most of the magic-users I encountered later dismissed me as a curiosity since I still couldn't access standard Arcane Magic and I couldn't teach others my gifts... So I took the road as a wandering Healer and taught myself how to harness my power and... there we are."

Raistlin chuckled. "The idiots. Knowledge is knowledge and power is power. You wouldn't mind talking more about it?"

Kitsune smiled. "I would be delighted! What I can cast is inspired from existing Arcane spells after all. And I'm sure you'll gain something from your observations. Knowledge is power and I can understand you wanting more power to bear against the one who cursed you."

Raistlin seized her arm. "What did you say? What do you mean?!"

Kitsune blinked. "My eyes are sensible to the light of Magic itself. I can see the curse put upon you. Only a powerful magic-user could have twisted the mark of the Test from the High Tower like that... You didn't know..?"

Raistlin released her and coughed as his weakened body spasmed with pain at the reminder of his ordeal. "I suspected... something..." During the Test, he did make a deal with the spirit of Fistandantilus, a legendary black-robed mage in the past of Krynn... "Par-Salian..."

"Par-Salian? That old coot?" Raistlin looked bewildered at the young girl. Did she call the Master of the Tower of Wayreth an..? "Your eyes are a classical from his shenanigans. The old man loves to teach lessons about humility and responsibility of power, but the drain on your life-force... Nope, not a chance. That's high-level necromancy and he wouldn't have also spelled your skin this metallic golden color."

"You know Par-Salian?"

"I know OF him. I did say that I met a good numbers of magic-users when I tried to have a handle on my powers and that I love to read." She shrugged. "He is powerful, but he is human and fallible. He is also NOT my master. Nonetheless, since he didn't break that curse on you, it means he is not capable of it. You also bear the Staff of Magius, not a trifle item and I can see your own power shinning brightly. Conclusion: YOU did attract the hostility of a powerful magic-user either because of your potential or because you did something to him."

Raistlin blinked. It was... logical... Par-Salian did say that his power will be needed in the future and that he had the potential to reshape the world. And yet, he suspected something was missing from the explanations of the young girl... Although if one took notice of her Fey Heritage... And that Par-Salian wouldn't speak of what happened at the Tower except with his peers... This young girl was worthy of a closer look.

"So? What news about the region?"

Raistlin sighed. Of course, the girl had to speak about rumors, the weather and gossips. He couldn't have a nice intellectual discussion with someone too long. And of course, now his idiot brother was jumping into the dialogue... This was going to be a long hour of walking.

 **The Soldiers of the Highseeker**

As the group approached Solace, the end of a long journey for the twins and the beginning of serious things for the extra-dimensional exile, all were anticipating a welcomed rest and a joyful reunion with the rest of the future heroes of the Lance.

Kitsune had talked about a recurrent dream of her that pointed to Solace. Raistlin and Caramon had drawn a parallel with their late mother who was a seer, but Kitsune said she was only a very intuitive person and not a full-fledged seer. Beside, the details of the dream were vague. She had to research to find about the town in the trees that was Solace and she didn't know what the Blue Crystal Staff was about or the two fighting figures, one clad in darkness and the other in light. She was also thinking about obvious plot hooks and lack of imagination. Really Paladine? A dream to have a connection with the group?

Just as they saw the first of the treetop houses peeking from among the fall foliage, the group noticed that the road was blocked.

Just around the bend ahead of them was a group of guards that Caramon identified as the Highseeker's militia. Five years ago, the men calling themselves "seekers" because "we seek the new gods" had been a loose-knit organization of clerics practicing their new religion in the towns of Haven, Solace, and Gateway. These clerics were incapable of True Healing like anywhere else since the Cataclysm but at least they had been honest and sincere. In the intervening years, however, the clerics had gained more and more status as their religion flourished. Soon they became concerned not so much with glory in the afterlife as with power on Krynn and they took over the governing of the towns with the people's blessing.

A farmer's oxcart was stopped on the road and two soldiers were searching, none too gently, its contents while the driver and passenger, looking anxious and worried, stood by. Two additional soldiers watched from a short distance away. One of the soldiers held a chain restraining a ferocious-looking dog.

The three looked at each other. Kitsune shrugged. "It's your town. I'll follow your lead."

The twins had one of their silent discussion between them and decided to go along the road. They didn't, shouldn't have any problems with the militia.

The guards, visibly searching for something in particular, finished their inspection of the oxcart and waved the farmers through the checkpoint into the town.

As the three travelers went straight into the checkpoint, two of the guards call for them to stop and began asking questions. "Where are you coming from?" Kitsune blinked at that. It was obvious they were coming from the road they were on, right? "What business do you have in Solace?"

Caramon shrugged. "We lived here and are about to meet friends at the inn, why?"

"We are the ones who ask here..! Have you heard anything about a _Blue Crystal Staff_?"

Caramon blinked. "A what? Blue crystal staff? A stolen object?"

"None of your business! Open your backpack, we need to search it." Without even a please the guards opened the backpack of Caramon, they weren't very pressed to touch Raistlin's things and Kitsune didn't have a visible backpack. A guard looked at a clay jug of beer. "I might have to confiscate this…" Caramon frowned, that was rapidly going from irritating to very annoying. A guard sneered at the numerous pouches of Raistlin. "What is this, bat guano?"

The guards were arrogant, swaggering bullies. The one with the dog made it growled at Kitsune when she showed that she didn't have a pack. Kitsune turned her emerald eyes to the fierce dog. "Sit, boy!"

The dog instantly shut up and dropped to the ground, trying to not attract attention from her. The guards did hesitate at the demonstration. The one who finished looking into Caramon's pack gazed at the staff in Raistlin's hands. "That a staff... We need to impound it for further investigation!"

This time Caramon moved to his brother's side and seemed to loom over the guard who gulped. He rattled his sword at the rest of them who seemed to want to do something. The intense green and golden eyes piercing them through their souls achieved to convince them of the better part of discretion.

As they entered the town, Raistlin turned to the young girl. "Well, you were right about the blue crystal staff of your dream."

Kitsune nodded. "I didn't think that others would have known... or dreamed..? About it." She frowned. "Which means it's more important that a clue in a dream." She looked at Raistlin. "Why would the Seekers search for this staff?"

Raistlin shrugged. "Power, of course."

The fox-spirit sighed. "I'm going to have problems... soon..."

* * *

Notes: Hum... not too bad... Good progression and not too much clutter.

Yes, the character is going to help Raistlin. At least she'll try. Having a non-competitive peer should help reduce the tensions caused by Raistlin. She should also better explain magic to the group without all that superstition.

And yes, at the first encounter I failed my Spot check. LOL!

The trick with the dog? Intimidate check.


	4. Chapter 2

**The Clever and Cunning Fox**

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story.

Notes: Stepping out of the original text. Wish me luck.

 **The Inn of the Last Home**

Kitsune smiled as she looked upon the town of Solace. For her, it was like being a tourist in a famous location. For the Majere twins, it was a bittersweet return to their home after 5 years.

Solace was built on a major crossroads in a wide, fertile valley in the heart of Abanasinia. It was perhaps the most unique town on the continent of Ansalon. With only a few exceptions, all the businesses and dwelling places of Solace were built among the branches of mighty vallenwood trees.

The people of Solace were hale, hearty, and trustworthy folk who were generally open and polite to strangers, even in these strange times. In the shaded branches of the giant vallenwood trees, the townsfolk lived in relative peace.

Kitsune hid her frown as that peace was about to be shattered forever. Solace was ostensibly under the control of High Theocrat Hederick of the Seekers religious sect. Behind the scenes, however, a horrible, fat and stinking, Hobgoblin named Fewmaster Toede pulled Hederick's strings.

From what she could remember of the original story, Hederick apparently believed Toede and his hobgoblins were mercenaries protecting the town. In reality, they were advance scouts for the now approaching Dragonarmies. At Toede's request, Hederick was searching for the _Blue Crystal Staff,_ believing falsely that if he found it, Solace would be left alone by however was behind the Hobgoblins mercenaries.

Looking at the twins, Kitsune could see that they were spotting the differences that time and circumstances had wrought.

Situated at a crossroads, most people traveling through Abanasinia ended up passing through Solace. It was good for business for the residents of Solace to be accepting of strangers. Lately, however, travelers had been bringing odd tales from the hinterlands: Strange beasts, missing farmers and villagers, travelers vanishing without a trace. As a result, Solace's fabled friendliness had been tainted by a trace of suspicion in recent weeks.

Despite the fact that they were locals, the twins were being treated as strangers and suspicious ones. Even her small appearance was dragging weary interest and anxiety. Her red and white outfit was almost as bad as the red robes of Raistlin Majere.

Caramon, oblivious to the icy silence of his brother, began to comment about what Kitsune could see. The Town Square was not so much a true town square as a large cleared area located between the intersections of several roads, this patch of land served as a meeting place for the inhabitants of Solace. Here itinerant merchants set up market-stalls or parked their wagons, traveling troupes of players gave performances, and children and adults played at sports like goblin ball and kender keep-away. Celebrations such as Spring Dawning were also held here.

The group stopped at Theros Ironfeld's Smithy since Caramon needed some help with his primary weapon. His longsword broke in a fight with an ogre and he wasn't satisfied with his current one.

Built of stone and located just off the Town Square, the smithy was one of the few buildings on ground level. The great bellows roared as the forge fire burnt hot. The sounds of hammering and clanging could be heard throughout Solace. And in the center of this was Theros Ironfeld.

Human, powerfully built male, towering over everyone, Theros was a master blacksmith, carpenter and builder. Kitsune knew that he hadn't been in town for long, having just finished a large job for the elves of Qualinesti before setting up shop in Solace. The young fox-spirit rapidly learned that he had a gruff, no-nonsense demeanor. While discussing prices with Caramon, he showed he didn't easily suffer fools, kender, or people who wasted his time.

Still, his speed and expertise as he put a new blade on Caramon's broken sword was worthy of respect. This was truly a master of his art. She waited for him to finish his work before extracting a weapon from her back that raised the eyebrows of Raistlin.

"Master Ironfeld? What can you tell me about this?" She presented a silvery flat metal ring of 15 inches. It was shaped like a Chakram with an outer sharpened edge and one quarter-segment had a padded grip. Engraved runes adorned its surface.

The blacksmith took the offered weapon and expertly examined it, making it ring lightly on his anvil. "Old, very old... Pre-Cataclysm at the very least... Runes seems to be Dwarven but... No, that's a human reproduction of Minotaur runes... I think... This is a reproduction of the weapon of a legendary female minotaur warlord from before Istar... Yep! That's it! It's a copy of the "Chalikar"!"

Kitsune blinked. "Chalikar? The "Circle"? What was its power?"

"Don't know, legend says that it could fly through the battlefield before returning to hand and that the elements themselves helped its bearer." Theros gave back the weapon. "Sorry, can't help much more than that."

"Hum... Well, thank you nonetheless, Master Ironfeld." Kitsune looked at the weapon and shook her head as she put it in its back sheath. A glorified Chakram, the weapon of a female warlord? Really, Paladine? Knowing the humor of the god, she also doubted that it was a mere reproduction.

The three companions walked back to their original destination. Caramon laughed as he pointed the "Trough" to Kitsune. The Trough was a disreputable watering hole that catered to those who had nefarious business to conduct, those who would rather not show their faces in public, or those addicted to dwarf spirits. The Trough was built on the ground, since no one who had been drinking dwarf spirits should be climbing trees. Its signboard featured a pig wallowing in swill. Chuckling, Caramon said of the Trough that "the barmaids are deaf, the tavern-keeper mute, and all of them are blind," to better ensure the privacy of its patrons. He blushed when Kitsune asked him how he could know without visiting if it was so disreputable.

Sardonically, Raistlin mentioned that a few stupid bets may have been taken in the past by some idiots he shouldn't name.

The Inn of the Last Home rested cradled high in the boughs of a vallenwood tree, its worn steps winding around the heavy trunk up to the familiar, for the twins, carved door. Warm laughter and cooking smells drifted down tickling Kitsune's keen ears and nose and making her watering at the mouth. For returning patrons, the Inn seemed timeless, unchanging. The wooden bar wove around living branches of the tree, its burnished glow deepening with each year. The delicate windows of stained glass behind the bar were being polished by Otik Sandath, the barkeeper.

Otik was a middle-aged man, short and rotund, with pudgy hands, a cheerful smile and the owner of the famous Inn of the Last Home. Otik was well-known for his ale, with a reputation for excellence spread far and wide, but he was perhaps even better known for his secret recipe for spiced potatoes.

He turned and waved, recognizing and smiling at the twins, and motioned the barmaid in their direction.

Kitsune opened her senses and feelings to the establishment. The low murmur of voices filled the inn. An old man wove stories in the corner by the hearth, to the delight of the crowd gathered about him. Fizban. The current avatar of Paladine. Kitsune felt the anger of her ordeal battering at the dam of her willpower. She was about to jump at the throat of the meddling old man and strangled him with his beard when something drew her attention.

On two chairs, near the storyteller, a man and a woman sat together and spoke quietly. Riverwind and Goldmoon. Inconceivable and yet it wasn't possible to not recognize them.

Riverwind was the tallest man Kitsune had ever seen so far. Caramon, at six feet, would come only to this man's shoulder. But Caramon's chest was probably twice as big around and his arms three times as big.

Although Riverwind was bundled with the furs barbarian tribesmen lived in, it was obvious that he was thin for his great height. His face, though dark-skinned, had the pale cast of one who has been ill or suffered greatly. Kitsune's heart went to them. She knew about their past trials and unfortunately it had only been the beginning.

Goldmoon had thrown her hood back and the sunlight shone on her face and hair. The woman's face was like the face of a marble statue: classic, pure, cold. But it was her hair that captured the fox-spirit's attention. Few had ever before seen such hair, especially on the Plainsmen, who were usually dark-haired and dark-skinned. No jeweler spinning molten strands of silver and gold could have created the effect of Goldmoon's silver-gold hair shining in the sunlight.

The barbarian couple wasn't supposed to be here now. They should have been brought in by Sturm Brightblade later in the evening and yet they were here.

Having delivered the last drinks on her tray, the barmaid stepped toward the group with a smile and showed the twins and Kitsune to a table near the fire-pit with seven chairs. The young girl recognized Tika Waylan at her red hair. If her memory was right, her mother died when she was very young and her father was abusive and neglectful. At the age of ten, she ran away. Four years later, she was taken in by Otik, whom she was trying to rob, who raised her as his own. She was a strong, lovely, and friendly young woman, but if any customer got too friendly with her, she did not hesitate to show him the business end of a cast-iron skillet.

Caramon frowned. Something about the barmaid seemed familiar. The hair? The intelligent glint of her eyes? His eyes widened. Could this be Tika, the fourteen years little girl who swept the tavern floors a short five years ago? He laughed with her as they recognized each other. The Inn never changed, but surely its people did...

 **Rumors and Facts**

Kitsune sighed in relief as she finished her plate of spiced potatoes. "All right. First things first." She turned to Raistlin. "Master Majere, would you accept a consultation from me?"

Raistlin turned sharply to the young girl and his cursed eyes narrowed. No, still no pity or condescension in it. "True, you're a healer. You're not going to pretend to cure me, are you?"

"Of course not. I don't even know if I can do something yet. And since you did consult with your peers, I'm not going to critic their work. So, what is the treatment you're following."

Raistlin shook his head. She wasn't playing by the rules he knew. A little irritating. "Infusion of Marjoram and several minor ingredients."

Kitsune waited and blinked when nothing more came. "That's... all? Just a potent herbal tea to treat your cough? Nothing else?"

"What more could be done, if the curse couldn't be broken?"

"Well, I practice a holistic approach. I don't treat the causes directly, but I help and reinforce the mechanisms around the infliction. Treating your cough is good, but it must be followed."

Raistlin frowned and focused on her words. "By what?"

"Overall tonics to fortify your body and reduce the effect of your cough and reduced endurance. A high-protein diet to put some meat on your bones. Very light specific exercises to promote a better circulation and respiration. A more homeopathic dosage of Marjoram to treat your symptoms and having the tea only in case of cough flaring. Can't do anything about the eyes, but I have an alchemical preparation that should dull the metallic coloration of your skin. It would be temporary and need to be applied periodically, but you would have a tanned skin with a golden metallic shine and not a golden metallic skin."

Raistlin blinked and blinked again. Nope, Kitsune wasn't following the rules of the game. She had simply threw down the board and was presenting another and different game.

Of course, it wasn't that simple. Kitsune didn't convince the red wizard to follow blindly her recommendations. He accepted with good grace the change in his dosage. He was cautious about the food she prescribed. The tonics will have to wait until he was satisfied with the effect of her proposed changes and he wasn't about to even listen about "very light exercises" indeed. The skin dye, however was an affront for him and the pains he endured for his Test at the Tower of Wayreth. The interest and badly disguised hope of his brother Caramon felt like acid in his heart.

Asking and receiving permission from the twins, Kitsune began to circulate around the inn with her smile, asking questions about the Blue Crystal Staff.

She rapidly charmed the inn's patrons, but the answers she found were... rather vague or third-hand rumors...

Otik shrugged as she sip an ale at the bar. "A magical staff! I bet it was forged by something from that terrible Darken Wood." His eyes took a dark tone as he quietly added. "Cursed place, that forest is." Well, more exactly, it was a fiercely defended place, but she supposed she would see in the near future.

Despite a friendship blooming at first sight, Tika wasn't much of help. "I just serve the ale; I don't want anything to do with the affairs of Seekers and mages." Sensible advice from a sensible young girl and still they were about to be thrown into the deep from a boot to the ass.

She managed to strike some conversation by playing a few dice games with a man at a table. "Yeah, I saw some strange men wearing hoods asking about a crystal staff just the other day, over by the town square. Queer folk. Didn't seem to be from around here, guessing by their manner of speech."

A man seated near the Storyteller joined in the dialogue. "Now that you mention it, a Holy Guard, one of them stuffed-shirt Seeker types from Haven, rode through town two days ago, hassling people about some crystal staff or some such thing. He said that anyone who knew anything should get to Haven, posthaste, and tell... uh... Seeker High-and-mighty about it. Let me tell you, Hederick seemed none to happy about that guy being here. Bah! Politics! Don't get involved, that's what I say." She was reminded of a scene in "The Lord of the Rings" when a Hobbit encouraged Frodo to mind his business.

Another man snorted in his glass. "Well, some folk might not like the Seekers much, but there's one of them that's not all bad. That Elistan fellow, the High Seeker. He's down there in Haven, on the council. He's a decent man, was kind to my family when we went down there last spring. Wise, too. He'll know what to do." Elistan? Going to Haven was unfortunately a loss of time. There was only one place in Krynn to go about the crystal staff.

With some trepidation, she finally approached the Old Storyteller, Fizban. The old man whirled to her as if he was only waiting for her and took on a wild-eyed expression, his intense eyes pinning the fox-spirit in place. "I foresee a great and terrible destiny in your eyes. There is a _Blue Crystal Staff_ which you and others must return to Xak Tsaroth! There, a few days hence, you shall all face your greatest peril in contest for the greatest gift given to man."

Kitsune felt her blood turning to ice and fleeing her face. Her legs trembled as she step back. Only the strong and solicitous hand of Goldmoon prevented her to collapse on the floor. Caramon and Raistlin, who had observed the young girl from the beginning, noticed that a brief but awkward silence falls over the Inn as the other patrons look askance at the old man's strange declaration.

A girl gulped at a table and tried to restart a normal conversation. "It was probably from Darken Wood. I hear the ruins there are full of gems and steel pieces... 'Course, I never heard of anyone coming out of there alive, so who knows?"

A young boy by the fire sighed dreamily. "I saw the White Stag up on Prayer's Eye Peak just a few days ago! My Nana used to say that anyone who could catch the White Stag would be blessed by the old gods. When I was little I used to believe her."

Still held up by Goldmoon, Kitsune breathed deeply to regain her composure. She managed a small, but still genuine smile to the beautiful chieftain's daughter. "Thank you, Lady."

But Goldmoon was interested in something else. Her sky-blue eyes locked on the emerald eyes. "Where did you learn about this blue crystal staff."

It was less a question than a demand, but Kitsune wasn't offended. She calmly answered in a low voice that only Goldmoon and Riverwind, looming over her, could hear. "In a recurring dream... There was a shinning staff with a blue crystal inserted at the top. I felt warmth and peace at its sight. There was a town built in the vallenwood trees, I felt the need to go there as fast as possible. Finally, there was two silhouettes with no distinctive features. One clad in darkness and one radiating light. They were locked in an eternal conflict."

Goldmoon exchanged a look with Riverwind and her eyes lingered on a staff leaning behind her chair. "Can you described more exactly this staff?"

"At first, it was a simple, plain and unadorned quarterstaff and then it transformed into a 6 feet long rod of flawless blue crystal. It was crowned with an ornamental headpiece, resembling two crescent moons that are connected at the back with the horns pointing down and upwards. In the center of the piece was a fist-sized flawless sapphire." She whispered. "In fact, it was exactly like your own staff."

The hand holding her own squeezed more forcefully. Riverwind stared at her with a stormy face and whispered back harshly. "What are your intentions towards the Chieftain's Daughter?"

Kitsune shrugged. "Nothing. The staff is yours. My dream simply asked me to be there. What do you want to do with it?"

The non-confronting attitude of the young girl seemed to reassure Goldmoon, but Riverwind still looked at her with suspicion. His eyes darted towards the twins at their table. "And your companions?"

"I met them this morning. They are on their own quest and more are about to regroup in this inn after a five years absence to discuss what they found and what they'll do. They were searching for any signs of the ancient true gods."

"A sign..?" Riverwind almost spat and held a bitter smile. "It seems that the gods have a laugh at us and play the same cruel games on all of us."

Goldmoon appeased his lover with a simple hand to his shoulder and released Kitsune from her vise. "We're... not sure about the nature of the staff. We determined to go to Haven and ask the wise men at the temple about the staff."

Kitsune shook her head. "They can't help you. While they have faith and knowledge, they don't hold any power except physical. They might be wise, but I don't think they know anything about this staff since they are searching for it in a rather abrupt manner. According to what I heard from the barmaid, when you'll see the High Theocrat Hederik tonight, you'll understand." She frowned. "In fact, the only person apart me and you knowing about this staff and being not interested in his possession had just spoken..." She turned to Fizban. "And in an almost prophetic way."

Goldmoon wet her lips. "What do you know about Xak Tsaroth?"

"Master Majere knows more than me." She shrugged. "Once a human thriving city on the central eastern coast of Abanasinia. The city was wealthy and followed the ancient gods. It was destroyed during the Cataclysm. It is now surrounded by the Cursed Lands between the Eastwall Mountains and the Newsea."

Riverwind seemed brought down by the news as his mind flash-backed to his ordeal when he obtained the blue crystal staff from the ruins of a city that he now could name Xak Tsaroth. Kitsune bit her lips in frustration. "Chieftain's Daughter? Would you allow me to help your bodyguard? I'm a healer."

"I don't need help!" Riverwind was vehement.

"Please beloved, let her help you. You have just weathered a bad fever and the... last two days..? didn't help."

The Plainsman sighed. "Only for you, Goldmoon." Riverwind found himself sulking while nursing an herbal tea and grimacing when chewing a few medicines I gave. Goldmoon sent the fox-spirit back to the twins after a promise to talk together after the reunion of the group was finished.

Caramon smiled at the young girl. "So? Good news, bad news?"

Kitsune frowned. "Difficult to say. Perhaps a later potential problem. I'm not the only one here for the blue crystal staff." She turned to Raistlin. "They would like to receive advice about what they should do and would like to listen to ours after the end of your reunion, Master Majere."

"Oh? About what?"

"Xak Tsaroth. It seems that your quest about the ancient gods is about to have surprising discoveries, right in your native home."

The mage's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe in coincidences."

"Neither do I. We're being set up. Me, you, them and probably the rest of your comrades. Willing or not, if we continue on this path, we'll be in the thick of it." She smiled at the twins. "And yet, I think I couldn't ask for better companions."

Caramon laughed. "Wait until you meet Tanis Half-Elven, Flint Fireforge, Sturm Brightblade, Tasslehoff Burrfoot and our sister Kitiara Uth Matar. Then, you'll have real companions."

 **The Companions of the Lance**

As the day passed and the evening drew near, the comrades of the twins entered in small groups or alone the inn.

First was the kender Tasslehoff. He yelled and pointed at Caramon and rushed to hug the giant. The kenders were a race of people considered by many on Krynn to be as much a nuisance as mosquitoes. Small-boned, a kender rarely grew over four feet tall. This particular kender had a slight build and perpetually childlike face that made him seem smaller. He wore bright blue leggings that stood out in sharp contrast to his furred vest and plain, home-spun tunic. His brown eyes glinted with mischief and fun and his smile seemed to reach to the tips of his pointed ears. Especially when he saw Kitsune smiling at him. He dipped his head in a bow, allowing a long tassel of brown hair, his pride and joy, to flip forward over his nose. Then he straightened up, laughing.

"A new face! I didn't know we could bring in new friends! I, fair maiden, am Tasslehoff Buurfoot. The road is my home and my Hoopak is yours!" The hoopak staff was a kender invention: The hoopak's bottom end was copper-clad and sharply pointed and the top end was forked and held a leather sling. The staff itself was made out of a single piece of supple willow wood. Although scorned by every other race on Krynn, the hoopak was more than a useful tool or weapon to a kender, it was his symbol. "New roads demand a hoopak," was a popular saying among kenderkind. It was always followed immediately by another of their sayings: "No road is ever old."

Kitsune stood up and drew a perfect curtsey. "And I, my good Kender, am Kitsune of Whitestone. What is mine is now yours." That drew bewildered looks around her. In regard to personal belongings, kender had a relatively loose definition of what was "theirs". In a kender home, a relic was anything that hadn't disappeared after three weeks. Kender had the unique "handling" ability which allowed them to "find" objects unconsciously. If a kender were to walk through a crowd of people, just like Tasslehoff did, it would be unlikely if the kender's pouches were not bulging with the belongings of at least half the people here. If anyone cornered a kender and ask him about it, the kender would truthfully reply that "it must have fallen into my pouch. It's a good thing that I found it or somebody else might have taken it." Because of their naivete in regards to personal belongings, the worst name you might call a kender was either a "cut-purse" or a "thief", for they truly believed that they were neither, it was an accident, remember?

The seconds to enter was the group of Tanis Half-Elven and the Hill Dwarf Flint Fireforge. At that moment, all the tables and chairs were occupied except where the twins and Kitsune were.

Tanis was the product of the rape of a Qualinesti Elf woman by a human brigand. Called Tanthalas by his mother Elansa Sungold, he was the de facto leader of the group. He was generally indecisive, but when confronted with a task or danger, would decisively take command while listening to the advices of his companions and weighting them with his head and heart. He had, however, serious trouble coming to terms and finding a balance with both his human and elven sides. The half-elven was 6 feet tall, wide-set, with tan skin, green eyes and shoulder-length brownish-red hair. He wore a beard that Kitsune knew served to hide his elven heritage in the lands hostile to his mother race. He was an excellent archer and bear a composite longbow along a longsword and several daggers. He was clad in a leather armor and moccasins. He let Caramon hugged him effusively before searching for Raistlin.

Flint Fireforge was an old dwarf of 148 years. He was the soul of the group. The elder who took under his wing a very disparate group and made them what they were now. He was just over half the height of Tanis in size, with a barrel-shaped chest, forge-hardened arms twice the size of the average human, a thick black beard and steel-blue eyes. Kitsune knew that he was queasy about heights, scared to death of boats and water because of an accident with Caramon, had the habit of talking to himself and being allergic to horses. He also shaped toys out of wood for children, which he would gave away without charging a cent. His metal working skills were among some of the best in Abanasinia. He was clad in studded leather armor and wield a trusty hand-ax. A wooden shield protected his back and several daggers pointed from his belt. He was grumbling after the enthusiastic hugs of Caramon but almost swallowed his tongue when he saw what happened to Raistlin.

Sensing the critical time, Kitsune turned to the mage. "May I, Master Raistlin?"

The wizard was about to lash at the dismay, pity and disgust of his comrades, but was distracted by the young girl. His cursed eyes seemed to pierce through her being. "Why not? Can't be worse than mangling my own explanations."

Kitsune turned to Flint and Tanis. "I am Kitsune of Whitestone, a healer. In no particular order: Yes, it's a magical curse. No, we don't know yet who cast it. Yes, we're going to kick his ass. Yes, we're searching for a cure. Yes, it hurts. And no, it's not contagious."

Tanis and Flint blinked simultaneously and looked at each other. The young girl had the assurance of a much older person. The two long-lived companions were reminded of the old and wise among their people. Raistlin disguised a chuckle under his cough, he was enjoying the discomfiture of his leader and his elder.

Still, Tanis and Flint asked a few more questions to the twins. Tanis was almost outraged that Raistlin had been chosen so young to pass the dangerous and lethal Test of the Tower of High Sorcery. He wasn't sure that the power gained by Raistlin was worth the damage to his health and, he perceived, to his soul. Flint was more pragmatic and was of the same advice of Caramon about what to do with the one who cursed his skin like that. It involved several edged objects moved vigorously and repeatedly. He passed about the subject of the eyes "gifted" by a White Robe Wizard. Magic was best left to the magic-users.

"Ale!" said Flint, clearing his throat and licking his lips as if he would wash a bad taste out of his mouth. "Where is that kender? I suppose he stole the barmaid..."

"And here we are!" cried Tas's cheerful voice. The barmaid loomed behind him, carrying a tray of mugs.

Caramon grinned. "Now, Tanis! Guess who this is. You, too, Flint. If you win, I'll buy this round."

Glad to take his mind off Raistlin's dark tale and the mystery of the young Healer, Tanis stared at the laughing girl. Red hair curled around her face, her green eyes danced with fun, freckles were lightly splattered across her nose and cheeks. Tanis seemed to remember the eyes, but beyond that he was blank.

"I give up." he sighed. "But then, to elves humans seem to change so rapidly that we lose track. I am one hundred and two, yet seem no more than thirty to you. And to me those hundred years seem as thirty. This young woman must have been a child when we left."

"I was fourteen." The barmaid laughed and set the tray down on the table. "And Caramon used to say I was so ugly my father would have to pay someone to marry me."

"Tika!" Flint slammed his fist on the table. "You're buying, you great oaf!" He pointed at Caramon.

"No fair!" The giant laughed. "She gave you a clue."

"Well, the years have proved him wrong," Tanis said, smiling. "I've traveled many roads and you're one of the prettiest girls I've seen on Krynn."

Tika blushed with pleasure. Then her face darkened. "By the way, Tanis." She reached in her pocket and drew forth a cylindrical object. "This arrived for you today. Under strange circumstances."

Tanis frowned and reached for the object. It was a small scroll-case made of black, highly polished wood that drew a look from Kitsune as she identified the wood as... Darkwood, the same lightweight and hard as metal wood she used with her crossbow. He slowly removed a thin piece of parchment and unrolled it.

His heart thudded painfully at sight of the bold, black handwriting and Kitsune cursed the one who wrote it, knowing the torments that Tanis will feel for a long time.

"It's from Kitiara." he said finally, knowing his voice sounded strained and unnatural. "She's not coming."

There was a moment's silence. "That's done it." Flint said. "The circle is broken, the oath denied. Bad luck." He shook his head. "Bad luck."

"Why?" Kitsune simple word drew the attention of all the companions. "Your comrade DID take the time to write and send a note to you. If she would have broken an oath, she wouldn't have done that." The companions appeared mollified at that, but they still felt betrayed.

Raistlin leaned forward. He and Caramon exchanged glances as thoughts passed wordlessly between them. It was a rare moment, for only great personal difficulty or danger ever made the twins' close kinship apparent. Kitiara was their older half-sister.

"Kitiara would not break her oath unless another, stronger oath bound her." Raistlin spoke their thoughts aloud.

"What does she say?" Caramon asked.

Tanis hesitated, then licked his dry lips. "Her duties with her new lord keep her busy. She sends her regrets and best wishes to all of us and her love..." Tanis felt his throat constrict. He coughed. "Her love to her brothers and to..." He paused, then foiled up the parchment. "That's all."

"Love to who?" Tasslehoff asked brightly. "Ouch!" He glared at Flint who had trod upon his foot. The kender saw Tanis flush. "Oh," he said, feeling stupid. Kitsune knew that Tanis and Kitiara had been lovers and that the half-elven did feel his two halves reconciled in her arms. Unfortunately, the first love of the dark-haired warrior was power. She would hesitate, but she would kill Tanis and even her brothers if need be. The fox-spirit didn't want to think about the short liaison between Sturm Brightblade and Kitiara Uth Matar.

"Do you know who she means?" Tanis asked the brothers. "What new lord does she talk about?"

"Who knows with Kitiara?" Raistlin shrugged his thin shoulders. "The last time we saw her was here, in the Inn, five years ago. She was going north with Sturm. We have not heard from her since. As for the new lord, I'd say we now know why she broke her oath to us: She has sworn allegiance to another. She is, after all, a mercenary."

"Yes..." Tanis admitted. He slipped the scroll back into its case and looked up at Tika. "You say this arrived under strange circumstances? Tell me."

"A man brought it in, late this morning. At least I think it was a man." Tika shivered.

Kitsune's eyes narrowed. "I see who you mean. He was that fellow wrapped head to foot in clothing of every description. You couldn't even see his face. His voice was hissing-like and he spoke with a strange accent..." She frowned. "A familiar one... Where did I hear this particular accent..?"

Tika nodded. "He said 'Deliver this to one Tanis Half-Elven'. I told him you weren't here and hadn't been here for several years. 'He will be' the man said. Then he left." Tika shrugged. "That's all I can tell you. The old man over there saw him." She gestured to the old storyteller sitting in a chair before the fire. "You might ask him if he noticed anything else."

Tanis turned to look at an old man who was telling stories to a dreamy-eyed child staring into the flames. Flint touched his arm.

"Here comes one who can tell you more." The dwarf said.

"Sturm!" Tanis said warmly, turning toward the door.

Everyone except Raistlin turned. The mage relapsed into the shadows once more. Sturm was more intolerant against magic than the rest of the group combined. He wasn't happily anticipating their encounter.

At the door stood a straight-backed figure dressed in full plate armor and chain mail, the symbol of the Order of the Rose on the breastplate. A great many people in the Inn turned to stare, scowling. The man was a Solamnic Knight, and the Knights of Solamnia had fallen into ill-repute up north. Rumors of their corruption had spread even this far south. The few who recognized Sturm as a long-time former resident of Solace shrugged and turned back to their drinking. Those who did not, continued to stare. In these days of peace, it was unusual enough to see a knight in full armor enter the Inn. But it was still more unusual to see a knight in full armor that dated back practically to the Cataclysm!

Sturm received the stares as accolades due his rank. He carefully smoothed his great, thick mustache, which, being the ages-old symbol of the Knights, were as obsolete as his armor. He bore the trappings of the Solamnic Knights with unquestioned pride and he had the sword-arm and the skill to defend that pride. Although people in the Inn stared, no one, after one look at the knight's calm, cold eyes, dared snicker or make a derogatory comment.

Kitsune sensed another break-point in the evolution of the Companions of the Lance. She stood up to greet the knight. Sturm Brightblade was a man of 29 years with blue eyes and black hair. Kitsune knew he was coming back from a very sobering journey from Solamnia. The tales he heard from his mother about his father and Huma revealed themselves to be ashes in his mouth. Huma was held in derision by the current knighthood and Sturm had been forced to sell off his ancestral lands to cover the debts his father owed. The only things he came back to Solace was the armor and sword his father wore when he was a knight. Sturm also abandoned Solamnia before he could manage to be inducted into their ranks and was merely a squire. And yet, apart for a handful among the Solamnic Knights, Kitsune would have bestowed full knight status only to this man, true incarnation of the honor that should have guided the knights.

She bowed to the approaching man. "Deghnyah Kharas. (Well met knight.) Oth Tsarthon e Paran? (Is our meeting between us in friendship?)"

Sturm Brightblade was petrified. After all the humiliations endured, after all the insults and the spats at his back. Someone, a young lady of fair birth, no doubt, was greeting him properly. Even the knowledge that he wasn't truly a knight was soothed by the almost luminous emerald gaze that shone genuinely at him.

He managed to recompose himself and bowed back. "Deghnyah Paranaith. (Well met friend.) Est Sularus oth Mithas. (My Honor is my life.)"

Flint grumbled about silver tongue, but the meeting of Sturm and the rest of the group went more smoothly than what should have happened. Sturm frowned heavily at Raistlin, but nonetheless was more concerned into helping the mage and bringing justice to the one who cursed him. That the young Healer was helping the wizard made her an integral part of the group without question. Even Raistlin managed to tone down his sarcastic and cutting remarks.

"Good!" said Flint. "Well, we're all here. What news?"

"All?" Sturm looked at Tanis questioningly. "Kitiara?"

"Not coming. She is under an oath to a lord, although she send us news that she couldn't come." Tanis replied steadily. "We were hoping perhaps you could tell us something."

"Not I." The knight frowned. "We traveled north together and parted soon after crossing the Sea Narrows into Old Solamnia. She was going to look up relatives of her father, she said so perhaps... That was the last I saw of her."

 **The Decision**

The group began to tell their respective stories more in detail. Of interest were the adventures of Tas. Despite the harsh words of Flint that didn't believe a word of it, Kitsune knew that Tas didn't lie. He really had an adventure with a magical portal and helped putting out a very big fire in the city of Kendermore. Her own tale was relatively well received and she thought that Tanis had latched on her out-of-time experience to explain what he was feeling about her.

She listened attentively about the original quest of the companions who searched for any signs of the ancient true gods. In vain. Since three centuries and the Cataclysm, the gods remained silent, True Healing no longer exist and all the true priests and clerics had disappeared. Those who proclaimed to have True Healing were charlatans and arcane magic-users abusing the credulity of desperate people. No changes compared to her memories about the Dragonlance Chronicles, still a good thing.

After all the stories, Kitsune brushed the subject of the Blue Crystal Staff that so many searched for recently. Tanis, Flint and Tas confirmed that the hobgoblin Fewmaster Toede was looking for it, but not why. Raistlin and Caramon talked about the attitude of the Seekers militia in Solace and Sturm nodded as he also encountered a guard that asked him the same thing.

Apart from Caramon, Raistlin and Tas, they were visibly skeptical about the dreams of Kitsune who wasn't offended. However, the barbarian couple drew more interest.

In better health but still worried and suspicious, Riverwind stayed up behind Goldmoon as she began her story. It was a story of tragic love that tugged at the heartstrings of Kitsune, Tanis, Sturm, Tas, Caramon and Flint. The Chieftain's Daughter falling in love with a humble shepherd. Goldmoon talked about the long years waiting for the return of her beloved tasked with an impossible task: Finding a proof about the existence of the ancient gods since Riverwind refused the Ancestor cult of the Que-Shu tribe or more exactly because the chieftain didn't want him to court his daughter. Years later, Riverwind came back bearing the Blue Crystal Staff but he was very delirious from a bad fever and had forgotten many things that happened during his odyssey. Goldmoon managed to use the staff to heal her beloved. The Plainsman then presented himself to the chieftain with the staff who didn't answer to Riverwind. As the tribe was about to stone her beloved, Goldmoon threw herself at him and the staff answered by teleporting them near Solace. They didn't know what to do next, but so far had heard about two possibilities: One was the Seeker council at Haven and one was the almost prophetic proclamation of the old storyteller about Xak Tsaroth.

Kitsune saw a complication. "It is easy to prove what happened, but not here. Look discreetly at my left."

The group glanced to the fire-pit. One other person listened to the old man. This was a man dressed in the rich brown and golden robes of a Seeker. He sat at a small round table, drinking mulled wine. Several mugs stood empty before him and, even as the group watched, he called sourly for another.

"That's Hederick." Kitsune whispered. "The High Theocrat and I don't like how much he's drinking."

The man called out again, glaring at Tika. She bustled quickly over to help him. He snarled at her, mentioning poor service. She seemed to start to answer sharply, then bit her lip and kept silent. The old man came to an end of his tale. The boy sighed.

"Are all your stories of the ancient gods true. Old One?" He asked curiously.

Goldmoon saw Hederick frown and understood what Kitsune meant when she said she'll understand by just watching the Theocrat. There was nothing but trouble at talking to this man or worse showing or merely mentioning the blue crystal staff.

Tanis had also a bad feeling. "Let's pay our tab and get out of here." He looked at Flint. "It's been five years, but you think your house could lodge all of us at least for this night?"

The dwarf sighed. "My house has been sitting empty. Roof probably leaked, ruined the furniture." He shook his head. "If you don't fear fighting 5 years of dust and clutters and help renovating a little, sure."

The group slowly departed for the dwarf's house. Even Riverwind seemed happy to be out of the Inn. Kitsune kissed goodbye to Tika like a sister. They were fated to meet again after all. She felt elated at having the whole group of the Companions of the Lance together and leaving Solace earlier. They weren't fleeing under the cover of the night, and the bonds being forged weren't imposed by circumstances. She glanced at Fizban and caught a merry wink. Well, now she had the official endorsement of a major god of Krynn.

They exited the Inn without problems and followed Flint to his house. As predicted it wasn't in very good shape. A little elbow grease, a few buckets of water from the nearby well and a few swear words as Flint assessed the damage to his furniture and tried to repair some. Rapidly the companions found themselves sharing a light soup, courtesy of Kitsune, around the hearth of the house. For a while the natives of Solace were transported back into the past when such a thing was regular.

Tanis smiled as the warmth brought by his comrades healed his soul a little. He looked at Goldmoon and Riverwind. "How do we proceed?"

"I do not know." Goldmoon faltered as they were about to truly test the staff. "I... I haven't had it very long."

Kitsune drew her dagger drawing the stares of everyone and cut a long line on her left forearm. She held it out to Goldmoon. Slowly, her face pale, the woman touched her with the staff. It transformed from its plain aspect into the famous blue crystal staff they all heard about and began to glow blue. Kitsune felt a slight shock tingle through her body.

Even as they all watched, the blood on her arm vanished, the skin became smooth and unscarred, the pain eased and soon left her completely. She flexed her arm and presented it to Tanis and Raistlin.

"True healing!" Tanis said in awe.

Raistlin sat down near the hearth, rubbing his thin hands in the warmth of the fire. His golden eyes seemed brighter than the flames as he stared intently from the healed arm of the young girl to the blue crystal staff now resting across the woman's lap.

"What do you think?" asked Tanis.

He shook his head. "I'm almost sure it's the genuine article." He turned to Goldmoon. "If I might examine it?"

Goldmoon nodded and held out the staff. The mage stretched out his long, bony arm, his thin hands grasping for it eagerly. And were suddenly intercepted by the firm hands of Kitsune. Raistlin blinked at the weird action from the Healer.

"Be careful, Master Majere, my eyes are showing me that this object is aura-locked."

"Aura-locked?" frowned Caramon. "What's that mean?"

Raistlin nodded as if he understood everything and not only what the fox-spirit was saying. "It means that only the true pure in heart can manipulate this object safely. I can't because I choose neutrality in my approach of magic. No red or black for that matter robed wizards could even touch this object. Caramon, take the staff."

Reluctantly, Caramon stretched out a hand and touched the staff. Nothing happened. Caramon gripped the staff, lifted it in his huge hand, and grinned.

"See there." Raistlin gestured like an illusionist showing off a trick to the crowd. "Only those of simple goodness, pure in heart..." His sarcasm was piercing through his lecture voice."...may touch the staff. It is truly a sacred staff of healing, blessed by some god. It is not magic. No arcane magic objects that I have ever heard about have healing powers."

"What about you, brother." The words of Caramon seemed to brought a heavy slab of ice as Raistlin sharply turned to him, his golden eyes seemed to incinerate his twin. "No." Raistlin whispered so low they almost couldn't hear him. "The staff will not heal me. Do not waste it on me. If it is a blessed artifact... its sacred power is limited. My body was my sacrifice... for my magic. This damage is permanent. Nothing can help..."

"How do you know?" Kitsune's words seemed to shock the mage. "I am not talking about your sacrifice. I know those things and only experience and time can rebuild them. But that's not all in your case."

Raistlin Majere gazed at the fox-spirit. Never before had the companions been so aware about the formidable power hidden in his frail body. Ice was churning in their veins and they felt something like just before a storm in the air.

The red wizard sardonically chuckled. "Yes... After all I have no hope... What do I risk in trying, right..? Goldmoon, give her the staff."

Calmly, Kitsune took the staff in hand. She knew that several among the companions wouldn't have been surprised if the staff defended itself against her. She smiled at the artifact and called upon Mishakal, goddess of healing, in her mind. The Blue Crystal Staff flared and a blue-white halo radiated from her. Her emerald eyes glowed with her own power. She didn't touch Raistlin, she only brandished the staff. "Begone from here, evil one and trouble us no more!"

The blue light intensified and enveloped the mage in its sacred radiance. All distinctively heard something screaming and a dark haze or cloud was expunged from Raistlin's body.

Caramon reacted in alarm and threw himself over his brother, knocking him down, attempting to protect him from what he perceived as an attack.

"Caramon! You stupid idiot ox! Get off of me! You're crushing me!"

"Raistlin! You're all right!" The giant promptly get off his brother. "You're..?" Caramon's eyes widened as he looked at his prone sibling. In fact all the companions were looking flabbergasted at the mage.

"What?!" Irritated, Raistlin get up, grasping the shoulder of his twin as leverage. He stopped himself as he gazed at his hand. His normal-looking hand...

Kitsune smiled with wet eyes as she grasped her mirror and offered it to the red robe.

Raistlin looked at a face he didn't see for five years now. His skin had regained her normal coloration and while he still looked gaunt, he didn't feel the permanent weakness from after the Test of sorcery.

He frowned. He still had white hair, his golden irises and hourglass pupils. Par-Salian DID gift him with that. This changed... everything. He was now truly indebted to the young healer and Goldmoon by association. But first he had to survive the bone-creaking hugs of his brother and the embarrassment of his crying thank you.

After the companions regained their composure in front of the miracle pulled from the Blue Crystal Staff, they still had a decision to take. Flint retook a flask of wine that Tas "found" somewhere in his house and served everyone.

For Tanis, this quest was the quest of Goldmoon and Riverwind. He was of the same advice as Raistlin and didn't thing that the Seekers of Haven could help them with the staff. At worse, they'll take it and try to use it to inflate their reach and power.

Xak Tsaroth seemed the only true lead. Looking at his friends and companions, Tanis took a fateful decision.

"I am Tanis Half-Elven. The brothers are Caramon and Raistlin Majere. The knight is Sturm Brightblade. Flint Fireforge carries the wine and Tasslehoff Burrfoot is our clever locksmith. You are Goldmoon, he is Riverwind and she is Kitsune. There... We are strangers no longer and we would be honored to walk at your sides during your quest, for we also searched for the signs of the ancient gods."

Goldmoon truly smiled for the first time with wet eyes and even Riverwind slowly nodded to the group.

This night, the companions managed to find a troubled sleep. Tanis found himself awake in the middle of the night. He frowned as he saw that Kitsune was absent. His rather fast exit from the house also awoke his friends that followed after him.

Tanis sighed in relief as he found immediately the missing healer just outside the door. She was gazing upon the firmament and seemed to be trembling from the night cold.

Goldmoon looked up into the starry heavens, then stiffened and caught her breath in alarm.

"What is it?" Riverwind asked, staring up.

The others exiting the house, heard Goldmoon's gasp and saw her eyes transfixed by the same thing that Kitsune was looking in the night sky.

Caramon poked his brother. "Raist, what is it? I don't see anything."

Raistlin cast back his hood and searched the night sky. Then he stiffened, and his eyes widened. Reaching out with his still thin, bony hand, Raistlin clutched Tanis's arm, holding onto it tightly as the half-elf involuntarily tried to pull away from the mage's surprisingly strong grip. "Tanis..." Raistlin whispered, his restored breath nearly gone. "The constellations..."

"What?" Tanis was truly startled by the pallor of the mage's now healthy skin and the feverish luster of his strange eyes. "What about the constellations?"

"Gone!" rasped Raistlin and pointed at the two horrible black holes in the night sky. Each shaped like a dragon of legend. "The constellation known as the Queen of Darkness and the one called Valiant Warrior. Both gone! She has come to Krynn, Tanis, and he has come to fight her. All the evil rumors we have heard are true. War, death, destruction..." His voice died in mortal terror and he wobbled on his feet.

Caramon held him. "C'mon, Raist." he said soothingly."Don't get so worked up. It's only a bunch of stars."

"Only a bunch of stars..." Tanis repeated flatly.

Sturm had pull his heavy cloak, draping it on the trembling shoulders of the fox-spirit and coaxed her back to the house. Her voice filtered through the dark night, white with fear. "You simply don't understand the scale of this event... A star is a sun like ours... Only incommensurable distance make them seem like tiny sparks... No mortal force could even hope of slightly affecting only one... May the gods be with us and not against us..."

There was great difficulty in reaching sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

Notes: Chalikar is another name for a Chakram and do mean "circle". Yep, I truly give Xena's weapon to my character... Well, almost, since I can only throw a melee weapon for now and no ricochets.

Yes! I bypassed all Fizban meddling. No pursuit in the cold of the night and no attention draw to the group. But don't worry, the old coot will show himself later.

And yes! I nipped Fistandantilus problem in the beginning. No more weakness for Raistlin! How? Easy, the Blue Crystal Staff can cast "Remove Curse" at the 20° level and is a sacred artifact from the Goddess Mishakal. Well, of course, the problem isn't completely solved and Raistlin still could turned to the Darkside. But at least, Kitsune can offer cookies... with chocolate chips...


	5. Chapter 3

**The Clever and Cunning Fox**

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this story.

Notes: Okay... I bypassed all the original text about the Darken Woods and the Forestmaster... And now, what..?

 **The Plains of Abanasinia**

Morning found the companions falling into a routine from five years ago despite their rough night as the unease caused by the disappearance of two constellations lingered. Tasslehoff Burrfoot or Tas as he preferred, Goldmoon and Kitsune were preparing a solid breakfast. Flint Fireforge didn't have any food left in his home, at least edible ones, but Kitsune surprised everyone by supplying trail rations and a few basic food items to make it more palatable. Riverwind had gone with bow and arrows to catch a few birds or rabbits and have a little meat.

Sturm Brightblade and Caramon Majere were patrolling around to prevent any bad surprises. The two warriors preferred to move rather than staying waiting for the food. Raistlin Majere was reading his Spell-book to refresh and change his repertory. The mage was so much better after his curse was broken from a judicial use of the Blue Crystal Staff of Goldmoon. Still, he was glancing at the Young Healer now among them: She was an enigma and he liked to decipher those.

Tanis Half-Elven and Flint were pondering on one of the many maps that the kender Tas kept. They were looking at the best way to reach Xak Tsaroth, final goal to discover the secrets of the blue crystal staff.

"Not much choice here, my boy." The Dwarf tapped one particular spot on the map. "The most direct and safer way for the Eastwall Mountains and Xak Tsaroth is to take the Sageway. We could cut off-road, but we would draw too much attention from the Plainsmen."

Tanis nodded. Two thousand years ago, the ancient Ergothians constructed a system of stone-paved roads across the Abanasinian Plains. Though now reduced to rough trails, bits and pieces of this network were still useable. The Plainsmen called it the Sageway, and it was still used by travelers and nomads alike. The East Road, part of this ancient system, lead out of Solace, through the Kiri Valley, over the northernmost ridge of the Kharolis Mountains, and down into the village of Qué-Kiri. Trails ran from Qué-Kiri to Qué-Shu and Qué-Teh, from Qué-Teh to Gateway, and east from Qué-Shu into the Eastwall Mountains. A road ran north from Solace toward the far-off coastal towns of Crossing and North Keep.

"That's a two-three days of travel without bad encounters... And while the Qué-Shu could be hostile to us, I think that Goldmoon could easily make us pass through. She's still the Chieftain's Daughter and worse for worse could produce the staff... Still, it's also something that anyone could deduce from us should he try." Tanis sighed and roll the map. "There is also the fact that too many people knew about this staff probably even before it came into Riverwind possession..."

The Plains of Abanasinia were not the largest on Ansalon, not by a long shot, but to the provincial people of Solace and Haven, they seemed to stretch on forever. The bulk of the Plains stretched north from Solace to the sea and an arm reach to Solace's east. The Abanasinian Plains were the home of semi-nomadic tribal humans. The Qué-Teh, Qué-Kiri, and Qué-Shu peoples settled in villages in the wide valley east of Solace for at least part of the year. The sites of these towns were well-established, determined by mutual agreement reached hundreds of years earlier in an attempt to end the nearly constant low-intensity warfare among the tribes. With that fighting in the past, the Plainsmen lived in relative security, though they were much more at the mercy of wind and weather than their distant cousins in the hamlets and farms around Solace, Gateway, and other Abanasinian towns.

However, the Plainsmen continued to maintain a proud warrior tradition and that was what Tanis was worried about. They were descendants of the barbarian tribes who joined with Fistandantilus during the Dwarfgate War. The martial skills, especially riding, archery and wilderness survival, were still highly valued. The Plains were an untamed and dangerous place with wild beasts, bandits preying on travelers, and stranger things still were known to roam the grasslands.

The group gathered to eat the finished breakfast. Caramon peered into the cook-pot and smiled. "Smells good."

"We have a cooking chef among us." Tasslehoff grinned. "Kitsune has amazing spices to season it. Be careful, you might gain weight."

The big man chuckled.

The plentiful breakfast was bringing back much cheers in the cold morning. Even Sturm, in general of somber mood, appreciated it. Caramon ate his share of the food quickly, gulped down his second helping and then tried to eat some of his brother's. A sharp tap from Kitsune's ladle stopped him as she wanted Raistlin to finally eat properly and the big man sat, watching wistfully while the rest finished.

"You gonna eat that?" he asked, pointing to Flint's share of bread. The dwarf scowled. Tasslehoff, seeing the warrior's eyes roam over to his plate and being out of the protective radius of Kitsune, crammed his bread into his mouth, nearly choking himself in the process. At least it kept him quiet, Tanis thought, glad for the respite from the kender's shrill voice. Tas had been teasing Kitsune all morning, calling her "Master Chef" and "Kitchen Goddess". The young girl had been almost helpless in laugh as she found something terribly funny in the kender's babbling... She was the only one and Tanis sent Tas down to the well to scrub out the pans.

The whole group moved towards the East Road, aiming to reach Qué-Kiri. The thick woods of Solace Vale were a green mass of vibrant life. Beneath the dense roof of the vallenwoods flourished thistlebrush and greenwall. The ground was crisscrossed with the bothersome tangleshoot vines. These had to be trod on with great care or they would suddenly snake around an ankle, trapping the helpless victim until he was devoured by one of the many predatory animals lurking in the Vale, thus providing the tangleshoot with what it needed to live: blood.

Still, the group didn't have too much difficulty into reaching the East Road and then began their journey at a better speed.

Tanis smiled as he saw the path. "All right, someone ought to scout.."

"I will, Tanis." Tas volunteered, popping up out of the brush beneath Tanis's elbow. "No one would ever suspect a kender traveling alone."

Tanis frowned. Tas was right that no one would suspect him. Kenders were all afflicted with wanderlust, traveling throughout Krynn in search of adventure. But Tas had the disconcerting habit of forgetting his mission and wandering off if something more interesting caught his attention.

"Very well." Tanis said finally. "But, remember, Tasslehoff Burrfoot, keep your eyes open and your wits about you. No roaming off the road and above all..." Tanis fixed the kender's eye with his own sternly. "...keep your hands out of other people's belongings."

Tas giggled, pushed his way through the final few feet of brush, and started off down the road, his hoopak staff digging holes in the mud, his pouches bouncing up and down as he walked. They heard his voice lift in a kender trail-song.

Your one true love's a sailing ship

That anchors at our pier.

We lift her sails, we man her decks,

We scrub the portholes clear;

And yes, our lighthouse shines for her,

And yes, our shores are warm;

We steer her into harbor-

Any port in a storm.

The sailors stand upon the docks,

The sailors stand in line,

As thirsty as a dwarf for gold

Or centaurs for cheap wine.

For all the sailors love her,

And flock to where she's moored,

Each man hoping that he might

Go down, all hands on board.

The deep shade under the flame-colored leaves made it impossible to see anything in the woods even a few feet from the road. Sturm walked ahead of the group, alone, in silence but with a hint of a smile under his mustache. Tanis was happy that the knight held his head proudly and that he wasn't slogging through the darkness of his past. Caramon and Raistlin followed. Tanis kept his eyes on the white-haired mage, concerned about the curse he received five years ago and that it had been just broken under their very eyes.

Raistlin had experienced no particular difficulty in getting through the brush and he was moving along his brother without effort now. Flint stumped along on the other side of Caramon. The two began to argue softly about the ten-year-old boating accident where Flint had almost drown which made him swear to never board a boat or anything related to water.

"Trying to catch a fish with your bare hands..." Flint grumbled his disgust.

Kitsune and Goldmoon were discussing about the various herbs of the region and their importance towards food or medicine. The half-elf asked himself how the young girl could maintain the immaculate white of her long-sleeved shirt. He shrugged. Raistlin used a magical trick to do the same with his red robes. Still, it was somewhat of a contrast between the rough aspect of his friends and the out-of-a-bath appearance she had.

He smiled at Riverwind that was closing the march but saw him frowning. "A problem?" He asked after slowing to walk at the side of the ranger.

"More of a puzzle, Half-Elven." He pointed at Goldmoon and Kitsune. "Look at the path under them."

Perplexed, Tanis examined the ground where the two women were walking. It was more of a dirt road and the rains of the season made it a little muddy. But he wasn't seeing anything apart from the traces of Goldmoon... Wait a minute...

Tanis blinked. "Kitsune... isn't leaving a trail..."

Riverwind nodded. "The only ones I saw having that much skill at woodcraft were elders of my people with decades of experience..." He shook his head. "I suspected magic, but contrary to the wizard she never did big gestures and speak weird words... I say she's a better scout than we think."

"Or her magic is more subtle than we saw so far." Tanis shrugged. "It ought to be useful in the future if we need another discreet scout." He lightly bumped the barbarian's shoulder before taking his place among the party. "Thanks, Riverwind."

The Plainsman had a rare smile. "You're welcome, Tanis."

The group came out of the Kiri Valley when Sturm saw Tas coming back. He raised his fist, signaling a potential problem and the group stopped and readied themselves. Tanis reached the knight and now could saw Tasslehoff jogging down the road towards them. The kender waved his hand in a circular motion, signaling a static obstacle ahead.

Tas came at their level, pouches and packs bouncing lightly as he moved. "Plainsmen! A party of Plainsmen warriors. Six, with bows and spears. They're looking at everything coming from the road."

Tanis turned to the barbarians. "Goldmoon?"

The beautiful woman shook her head. "The tribes only blocked the road if they don't want someone near their village. The Qué-Shu are not at war with the Qué-Kiri, but we're not friend also."

Tanis nodded. He preferred to have the best appropriate person negotiating in the right circumstances. He could do it, Goldmoon was also a possibility, but since recently... "Kitsune! I want you to be our spokeswoman. Try to negotiate safe passage, please."

The fox-spirit nodded and put back her weapons she prepared before. She took the lead, smiling at Sturm who decided to walk two steps behind her.

As the companions emerged completely out of the Kiri Valley, they were met by several Plainsmen warriors, visibly guards from Qué-Kiri that ostensibly kept watch over the road: The leader was a stern woman. Kitsune went alone with Sturm and engaged the negotiations.

From the very beginning, the Plainsmen were suspicious and even had their arrows on the ready but not drawn. They insisted the companions skirted the nearby village of Qué-Kiri rather than passed through it. Kitsune had no objection to that since it was their village after all. Mollified by the positive answer, the warriors offered to give the group food and water, but they continued to insist the companions avoid the village.

Kitsune began to barter for the resources and asked if there was anything they should know about the Sageway. She pointed the Plainsmen were hardly people to feel fear and that they would be grateful for any warning.

The leader hesitated and then divulged that their tribal shaman had had a dream about the _Blue Crystal Staff_ that was somehow related to a city underground. They also warned Kitsune that their tribal scouts have reported mysterious fires far to the north. Riverwind, who had joined her along Goldmoon informed Kitsune that natural wildfires would be unlikely, given the recent rains in the area. However, the Plainsmen still didn't allow the group to go through the village.

Using her status as the Chieftain's Daughter of the Qué-Shu tribe, Goldmoon managed to convince the warriors into escorting them to the village so that she could speak with the Shaman.

Arriving into Qué-Kiri, the companions could see that the structures of this town didn't seem completely permanent. The village consisted of about 150 family huts and primitive cottages, plus a small handful of permanent common buildings. Most of the family dwellings were made from wood, bark, and tanned hides, augmented with mud and adobe. The common buildings were made from logs, adobe, and even some stone with thatched roofs.

Tanis remarked that Qué-Kiri's population was very tense and suspicious of outsiders, such as his own group. Flint Fireforge almost literally fought for barter and could only obtain simple provisions and a few equipment they didn't think about. Under the pride they could see that the Plainsmen knew something terrible was coming, and items with as little practical value as metal coin carried far less worth in such times.

Once again, Kitsune was able to establish a positive relationship using some alchemical products, mostly anti-toxins, tonics and Daystrider capsules which allowed someone to walk for hours. During that time, Goldmoon and Riverwind met the old tribe's shaman and show him the _Blue Crystal Staff._ The elderly trembled at the sight of the reality of his visions and slowly caressed the staff. He looked into the eyes of Goldmoon and advised her to take it east to Xak Tsaroth "as quickly as possible!"

Sturm tried to negotiate for horses, but the Plainsmen were adamant. They were far too valuable and they needed everyone of them. Besides, Flint shot down the notion of having horses, citing his allergy to them.

 **The Draconians**

The night fell and the group chose a nook between two little hills to protect them from the wind. Among the equipment they bartered for were tents. Tanis decided against any fires during the night, so the dinner consisted into trail rations with fresh cheese and bread.

The Half-Elven came to Raistlin, still a little outside the group, to discuss the day events. He was more worried about the fact that too many disparate people received visions of the same thing: The Blue Crystal Staff. Raistlin didn't have the answer, despite or more exactly because of his experience with his seer mother, he hadn't a good opinion about "Fate messages".

Kitsune joined them and talked about "precognition". She acknowledged that some entities, the gods for example, could influence seers, but that the whole point about it was only to point to the more likely scenario in the future. After all, if the future was truly fixed, seers served no real goal as you couldn't change their predictions. "Precogs" were sensible enough to feel the natural world around them and perceive exterior influences on Nature and "what should have happened".

Tanis pondered. "So we have a future event which has the greater chance to happen and we could act to either ensure it'll happen or not."

Kitsune nodded. "Or direct it in another way."

Tanis hummed. "All signs point to Xak Tsaroth. But you told me the old storyteller spoke about the greatest gift given to man and that we would have to face our greatest peril to obtain it. What could be this greatest gift?"

Caramon rumbled. "Greatest gift? A powerful sword? A chest of steel coins? That would come in handy, but there's battle brewing up north apparently. I'd hate to miss it."

"What do you think the gift might be, Raistlin?" Tanis wondered aloud. "A sword or coins, like Caramon said?"

"My brother's a fool." Raistlin stated coldly. "You don't believe that and neither do I."

"Then what?" Tanis pursued.

Kitsune giggled and turned to the saddened warrior. "Caramon. What you described would be good for one person knowing how to fight. Now, what would be useful for all Ansalon?"

Caramon frowned. He let this kind of deep thinking to his brother. Still the emerald eyes seemed to encourage him. "I would say... the means to give a sword to everyone and the knowledge of using it along... But they are already soldiers who have those so... perhaps something that no one can do in Ansalon so far..?" He stopped. His brother was looking at him without the contempt he generally turned on him. No, it was surprise and perhaps... pride or fear?

Sturm sighed and finished his cup of wine. Something that all Ansalon can't do? "I'm taking the first turn, you really should go to sleep. Tomorrow will be difficult enough since we're entering Qué-Shu territory."

The next morning, the companions progressed across the plains still following the Sageway. Then they came across an odd swath in the waving grass of the Plains. Something big enough that Tanis decided to investigate it. As they drew nearer, they saw a broad path had been trampled, as though hundreds of beings had recently marched across the Plains in a North-South direction.

Tanis turned to Riverwind who was the better tracker. The Plainsman determined that the tracks were made in part by strange, non-human feet and that there were several wagons among the horde.

Kitsune knelt and sniffed at the odd tracks. Flint was perplexed by her actions. "What is it, my girl?"

Kitsune looked worried. "I'm not sure... It's faint, but there is a musk smell, almost acidic coming from those tracks... I don't know what could have left this odor." More exactly, she didn't SEE the Draconians that passed through here. Her keen nose had now their signature smell so she would have no difficulty to prevent some ambushes.

The companions were also perplexed, but no one wanted to follow those tracks in either direction and they resumed their course towards Qué-Shu. Goldmoon and Riverwind became more and more anxious as they progressed towards their home village.

Tanis, with his elven eyes was the first to see him: A single figure in the garb of a Plainsman scurried over a gentle rise farther along the road. It was a man, and a dozen yards behind him came four other figures loping in pursuit. The whole group, without prompting, drew their weapons and prepared themselves for a fight.

The pursuers wore long hooded cloaks, flowing in the stiff autumn breeze, and brandished swords menacingly. Even from this distance the companions could hear their taunting laughter. They seemed to be toying with the clearly exhausted man they're chasing.

The figures were still 500 feet away. However the running man seemed to have noticed the group and was stumbling toward them with all his strength. As he managed to cry out for help, the companions could strain their ears and perceived the laughter and taunts more clearly. The pursuers' laughter wasn't quite like any voices they had ever heard before. It had a hissing and inhuman quality.

Sturm Brightblade rushed towards the cowards, sword high in the air. He was followed by Flint and Caramon. Tanis and Riverwind prepared their bows, Tas decided to stay near Goldmoon and Raistlin.

Kitsune fell prone and calmly aimed her heavy crossbow. The reticule of her scope aligned with one of the pursuers. Tanis and Riverwind could also shot at that distance but not with the precision her scope granted her. The bolt rushed across the grassy plain and hit its target. The companions could hear the inhuman roar of pain as the bolt bit deeply into flesh. She adjusted for the current conditions and fired again. This time it hit directly the head under the hood. The heavy hooded cloak was blown by the wind revealing a vision of horror that drew a strangled gasp from Riverwind.

The... creature..? was between 5 and 6 feet in height, with a short stubby tail, a pair of thin wings, a lizard snout with small fangs, blood red eyes and a greenish scaly body. It was also petrifying itself until it was nothing more than a statue with two bolts stuck in it.

Sturm, Flint and Caramon had faltered when they saw the transformation, but they braced themselves as the three creatures were rushing them.

Tanis was flabbergasted, but his friends were still in battle. "Kitsune! Fire at will! Protect our fighters!" He turned to the shocked Plainsman. "Riverwind! Pull yourself together! Fire, damn it! Fire at them!"

But the barbarian was not hearing. He was staring wide-eyed in terror at the petrified thing, his face deathly white, his breathing swift and shallow. He was a man who wakes from a nightmare to discover it is reality.

"Riverwind!"

Goldmoon's cry woke the Plainsman from his terror. He readjusted his bow and took a shot. His arrow found its mark and Sturm plunged his sword into the wounded monster, killing it instantly. However, the knight found to his horror that his weapon was stuck in the petrified body.

Seeing what happened, Caramon crashed his shield in the face of another, dropping it just in range of the Dwarf's ax who didn't loose the occasion. The last, who was rushing to the archers, fell to the combined shots of Kitsune and Tanis and was petrified upon death.

Tanis went to the shocked fighters and stopped as the statues suddenly turned to dust, freeing the trapped weapons. He went to Sturm who was examining his precious sword. "Don't worry." Sturm said harshly. "Just give me a moment's peace." Tanis gripped the knight's hand briefly, then went to sit beside Riverwind who was held by Goldmoon.

Neither spoke for long minutes, then Tanis asked. "You've fought those creatures before, haven't you?"

"In the broken city... Xak Tsaroth..." Riverwind shuddered despite the warmth of his beloved. "It all came back to me when I looked at that thing being petrified. At least..." He paused, shook his head and then he gave Tanis a half-smile. "At least I know now that I'm not going insane. Those horrible creatures really do exist... I had wondered sometimes."

"I can imagine." Tanis murmured. He still felt trembling and not from the adrenaline of the fight. "So these creatures are spreading all over Krynn, that what the tracks we saw earlier meant..."

He looked around for the Plainsman they rescued and so Kitsune and Tas helping him. Raistlin stayed near them and was gazing at the barbarian with the thirst for knowledge he had learned to discern from the mage. Yes, they truly, dearly needed some information... if they dare...

Gasping after drinking from an offered canteen, the exhausted Plainsman croaked a greeting to the companions gathered around him. "I am Nightshade of the Qué-Teh, and I am in your debt. The dragonmen raided our village a few days ago. They came upon us like fiends of the Abyss, killing any who resisted and capturing the rest. They ransacked the village and interrogated us, asking about some crystal staff." That drew an alarmed look between Goldmoon and Riverwind. The heart of Kitsune beat more rapidly. She couldn't have done a thing, but still... "Many more died in the questioning. Apparently they were satisfied that we had no idea what they wanted, because they're taking the people south." His eyes glazed at the remembrance. "They say we are to be put to work as slaves. The elders of the tribe held a secret council, chained as they were." He wet his lips. "I was chosen to attempt to escape and go to Qué-Shu to seek aid. Those four..." He pointed to the remains of the draconians. "...intercepted me. Wherever you are headed, you must be careful. A great evil lies to the south, and in their idle chatter, they mentioned another host of fiends in the north poised to strike against the Seeker lands. They hold back only for fear of this crystal staff they're looking for."

Goldmoon stood up. "We are going to Qué-Shu. Right now! My father must be warned and our people protected!"

Nightshade recognized the garb of Goldmoon. "Thank you, Chieftain's Daughter. I'm in your debt. Just give me an hour or two for resting..." Pushing away Tanis' hand who wanted her to stop, Goldmoon brandished her staff which took his normal sacred form. A blue light seemed to wash away the exhaustion and bruises of the Plainsman. His eyes widened at the miracle and he stared at the revealed _Blue Crystal Staff._ "Please, Chieftain's Daughter, do not allow it to fall into the hands of the dragonmen. Keep it safe, at any cost!"

"I will. I intent to bring it back to Xak Tsaroth and learn about its finality."

"I approve heartily. Surely that's where the _Staff_ 's secret lies, for that place is full of the ghosts of the past. Now, please let's go to summon my people's cousins of the Qué-Shu tribe who are great in numbers and fierce in battle."

 **Qué-Shu**

Tormented by her anxiety, Goldmoon pushed the group to accelerate and reach her home village as fast as possible. Kitsune took out and distributed her Daystrider capsules to give the energy necessary for the effort. But within three miles of the village, the companions stopped as they could see a great deal of black smoke rising from its direction.

"No..." Whispered Goldmoon.

Walking more, they could now see large swaths of trampled grass, the same signs that they've seen before: a great host passed this way.

"No..!" The denial rose in Goldmoon voice.

As the group approached the village, they noticed a handful of crows circling the town.

"NO!" Goldmoon rushed towards her home, Nightshade and Riverwind at her heels. The companions followed in dread of what happened.

Once they got within a hundred yards of the village's outskirts, Tanis and his friends felt chill winds dispersing the smoke from dying fires in the midst of the village.

Buzzards and carrion crowed and wheeled over the motionless settlement, descending slowly among the huts. Everything was still and eerily quiet but for the occasional "Caw!" of a crow.

They were gone.

The tents, huts, and common buildings of the Qué-Shu were abandoned, and many were burning. The great stone walls, the huge stone temples and edifices, the spacious stone buildings with their rock courtyards and statuary, the large stone arena... All had melted, like butter on a hot summer day. The rock still smoldered, though it was obvious that the village must have been attacked well over a sunrise ago. It was as if a white-hot, searing flame had engulfed the entire village. But what fire was there on Krynn that could melt rock?

A strange creaking sound came from the center of town.

Birds perched atop a wooden gallows hastily cobbled together in the center of the village. Two stout posts had been driven into the ground, their bases nearly splintered by the impact. Ten feet above the ground, a crosspiece was lashed to the posts. All the posts were charred and flash-burned. Three iron chains, each now cold but clearly once partially softened by heat, creaked in the wind.

Suspended from each chain, apparently by the feet, was a corpse. Though blackened and seared, the bodies were clearly not human, but hobgoblin. Atop the structure, a shield had been nailed into the crossbeam with a broken sword blade.

A message was roughly carved onto the shield as if by a huge but expertly wielded blade. Raistlin managed to approach it and read it in a sepulchral voice. "Be it known, servants of Highlord Verminaard, the fate of ye who disobey his commands or show cowardice. This is what happens to those who take prisoners. Kill or be killed."

White as a ghost, Flint's eyes were drawn to the shield. He absently determined that the gouges in the metal shield to create the sign appeared to have been made by a claw... A very, very large claw...

Verminaard. The name meant nothing to Tanis.

Other images. He remembered Goldmoon standing in the center of her father's ruined house trying to put back together the pieces of a broken vase. He remembered a dog, the only living thing they found in the entire village-curled around the body of a dead child. Caramon stopped to pet the small dog.

The animal cringed, then licked the big man's hand. It then licked the child's cold face, looking up at the warrior hopefully, expecting this human to make everything all right, to make his little playmate run and laugh again. He remembered Caramon stroking the dog's soft fur with his huge hands. He remembered Riverwind picking up a rock, holding it, aimlessly, as he stared around his burned and blasted village. He remembered Sturm, standing transfixed before the gibbet, staring at the sign, and he remembered the knight's lips moving as though in prayer or perhaps a silent vow.

He remembered Kitsune and Nightshade erring among the ruins like zombies. Tears seemed to fall constantly from her beautiful emerald eyes. He remembered the young girl gathering what she could find for human remains, staining her outfit with black soot, and conjuring a violet flame to send lost souls upon the winds.

He remembered the sorrow-lined face of the dwarf who had seen so much tragedy in his long lifetime, as he stood in the center of the ruined village, patting Tasslehoff gently on the back after finding the kender sobbing in a corner.

He remembered Nightshade leaving by himself despite the pleadings of Kitsune who seemed incapable of holding back the Plainsman and could only cry at his departing silhouette. Did he talk about finding back his imprisoned fellows? He couldn't remember.

He remembered Goldmoon's frantic search for survivors. She crawled through the blackened rubble, screaming out names, listening for faint answers to her calls until she was hoarse and Riverwind finally convinced her it was hopeless. If there were any survivors, they had long since fled. Did he truly remember Riverwind saying that he found signs that the villagers left their homes in a terrified rush and that their tracks lead off into the nearby Eastwall Mountains? Or was it wishful thinking?

He remembered standing alone, in the center of the town, looking at piles of dust with arrowheads in them, and recognizing them as bodies of dragonmen. He remembered a cold hand touching his arm and the mage's whispering voice.

"Tanis, we must leave. There is nothing more we can do and we must reach Xak Tsaroth. Then we will have our revenge."

And so they left Qué-Shu. The scavenger birds crowed and cawed at their good fortune.

They traveled far into the night, none of them wanting to stop, each wanting to push his body to the point of exhaustion so that, when they finally slept, there would be no evil dreams.

But the dreams came anyway.

* * *

Notes: Kitsune is a ranged Warlock and alchemist with her power following a Fey theme. She is a terror on the social battlefield, have plenty of various gadgets like Batman and she leaves no traces whatsoever.

The Companions of the Lance are calling the Draconians Dragonmen because Nightshade was the first to name them to us. They will discover the true name later.

The destruction of Qué-Shu was horrible. The first time I read it, I was reminded of Oradour-sur-Glane.


End file.
